


never bet the devil your head

by naboojakku



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Sex, Complete, Darkfic, Dirty Talk, Dominant Kylo Ren, Dry Humping, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Grooming, Kylo is 31, Kylo's kind of chaotic, Kylo’s a bit of a douche at times ??, Loss of Virginity, Mention of pregnancy, Modern AU, Neighbors, Obsession, Older Man/Younger Woman, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Kylo Ren, Power Imbalance, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rey has some self confidence issues lol, Rey is 17, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Somnophilia, Underage Sex, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, age gap, also Rey verbally berates herself fyi, bleak ending, dont ask bc idk, dub con, just a lot of sex ok, lit rally, literally no plot at all, no Ben Solo here folx, noncon in later chapter(s), smutfest, so it shall be, that’s what I wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboojakku/pseuds/naboojakku
Summary: Late one night, Rey finds herself in a compromising position with her older next-door neighbor, Kylo. Things quickly escalate.
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 137
Kudos: 482





	1. wth>you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **yes hello i am back with more nonsense filthhhh**
> 
> **nobody asked for this but you shall receive anyway bc i am weak**

Rey awakens to heat on her lower stomach.

At first she thinks, _Phasma?_ Her chunky tabby cat’s been known to burrow under the covers next to Rey during the year’s colder months. His purring is sometimes so loud it's not uncommon for him to waken her from a dead sleep. 

Phasma is also, Rey’s convinced, a furnace in disguise. So this first, half-conscious assumption is a natural one.

But then she registers the human arm draped heavily over her side. The breath tickling the back of her neck. Long legs tucked behind hers. And something stiff and thick and nudging against her backside, something that pulses with heat.

 _That’s not Phasma._

Rey’s eyes snap open.

She inhales, and the hand splayed across her midsection flexes. It’s so large, the fingers so long and callused, that it nearly covers the entire expanse of her stomach. Her heart nearly leaps into her throat. She only knows one person so outrageously large.

“Kylo?” she whispers, turning her head on the pillow.

A low, affirmative rumble travels up and down her spine. Despite herself, Rey shivers. 

“Good morning, babe.” 

Kylo Ren, her next-door neighbor, has a voice like sin. Deep and slow and dangerous. _The embodiment of sex,_ her friend Rose has too often said. She’s not wrong. When he speaks, you know there’s trouble afoot. Maybe not now, or tomorrow, or even next week—but that voice promises soon.

“Morning?” Fuzzily, Rey searches for her bedside clock. “What time is it?”

“A little after midnight,” he murmurs in her ear, his hand pressing down on her hip. 

“Why—what are you _doing_ here?” Rey struggles to turn around and face him. His arm is heavy, and he makes no move to lift it. 

“Here in your bed?” A soft noise of amusement. “I thought that was obvious.”

“In—in my _house_.” Rey grips his wrist, fingers just barely meeting. Every part of him is so damn massive, it’s a wonder he hasn’t accidentally crushed her while they slept. 

“Your uncle gave me a key.”

Rey instinctively knows this is a lie. Her Uncle Luke would _never_ have given _anyone_ a key to their house. He isn’t trustworthy like that. Even though he moved to this swanky neighborhood right after adopting nine-year-old Rey, Luke hasn’t made any efforts to get involved with their neighbors. He likes his privacy.

At this moment, Rey can’t say she blames him. 

“Kylo,” she huffs, feeling his knuckles brush the hem of her PJ top. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I disagree,” he mumbles into her neck, pushing his hips forward just slightly. It’s enough to feel his erection— _all_ of it now—and despite herself, Rey allows it. She doesn’t push into him, no….but she also doesn’t pull away. 

_Don’t be stupid about this, Rey._

“It’s the middle of the night,” she insists, even as his fingers trace circular patterns on her bare skin. 

“Mm,” he grunts noncommittally. 

They lay there in silence for a minute or two, Kylo caressing her stomach, dick pressed solidly against her ass. His chest is hard behind her, but Rey doesn’t mind. In a weird way,she prefers it.

Finally, Kylo murmurs, “I had a date tonight.”

The implications don’t really register at first. Rey’s lost in the feel of his fingers. 

But then he adds, “I was supposed to spend the night at her place.”

Something nameless tightens in her stomach. Rey’s contentment slips away in a snap. _Did he...come straight here after sleeping with her?_ she thinks, horrorstruck. 

She stiffens under his lazy ministrations and tries to pull away. But his grip on her tightens, and when he slips his other arm under her head, she feels the scorching-hot touch of his fingers as they wrap around her throat from behind. She immediately ceases all movement, and Kylo chuckles.

“Jealous, baby?” he purrs, his lips on her ear. The vibration makes her thighs clench.

He grinds against her backside, just a little, and Rey gasps. “Get... _off me_ ,” she hisses through her teeth. “Kylo—“ 

“No reason to be jealous,” he reassures her, and the hand on her stomach slides off for a moment to massage her hip. “Our date ended early.” He smiles into her bare shoulder. The collar of her crop top slides further down her arms when he nudges it with his chin.

“She was...well, boring,” Kylo adds mildly. “Honestly, Rey, I could barely keep my eyes open. She talked too damn much. But that’s not surprising—I mean, it was a _Tinder_ thing.” He sounds faintly disgusted. 

“How sad,” she manages, her mind focused on the slow grind of his hips. It’s taking everything she has not to rub herself all over him. 

_Tell him to leave. Tell him this isn’t right._

“While she yapped away, I found myself thinking, _I wonder what Rey’s doing_ ,” he continues, oblivious to her mounting tension. “ _I wonder if Rey's still awake_.” 

“I wasn’t,” she snaps, squeezing her eyes shut. The grinding is pure _torture_. “Not that it’s any of your business. Not that you _care_.”

“Oh, I care,” he assures her, massaging her neck. “I care, baby. You have no idea.” 

But...that isn’t entirely true. She has _some_ idea. After all, she’s been forced to shoot him down at least half a dozen times. His advances started off subtle, yeah, but not so much that she could convince herself they meant something else. Lately, they’ve...escalated. 

Every couple of months—though now it’s been reduced to _weeks_ instead—Kylo will touch her if he happens to see her outside. Usually just on the arm or shoulder, but sometimes on her waist. He’ll compliment her— _your skin’s so radiant, Rey, oh your hair‘s so beautiful, but your smile...I love your smile._ He’s mentioned before that her smile _tempts him_ , and this sentiment is always spoken with a slow, puzzling smirk.

He’ll even buy her gifts—jewelry, shoes, food. Always food because he knows how much she loves it. Then again, anybody with half a brain and even a rudimentary understanding of her past can see that. Sushi, pizza, pasta, curry, burgers, soup, cake. Anything and everything. She’ll eat it all, even when she knows she shouldn’t. Free gifts are never actually _free_. 

Yet Kylo’s never balked at expense or the amount of time some of these things have cost. He blows up her phone asking when they can meet. Told her about the new drive-in movie theater three weeks ago. Mentioned how her favorite store in the mall was having a sale two weekends ago. Asked her to go see the ocean, visit the aquarium, browse the bookstore, picnic at the park. He’s sent her flowers—at home, during school, at work. Huge bouquets of roses and lilies and her favorite, sunflowers. Never with a note or signature.

But she‘s always known. . 

Rey accepts the flowers but returns the other gifts. She’s denied him dates and weekend outings and afternoons together. At first she was flattered—she’s always found him handsome, ever since she laid eyes on him over the fence their first day in the house. Nine-year-old Rey had made googly eyes at shirtless, twenty-two-year-old Kylo Ren as he mowed the front lawn. 

Even now she blushed whenever he gave her even the slightest bit of attention. Maybe his flirty winks were inappropriate at first, but as Rey got older she found herself deliberately seeking him out. As she got older, his intentions became very clear. 

But in the end, she still says no.

 _He’s much too old for you,_ she reminds herself now as he grinds himself against her ass. _He has a lot more experience. You’ll just bore him. There are so many other girls out there who’ll match him in looks and...expertise. He’ll see how bland you are soon enough. Besides, shouldn't he go for someone his own age?_

“Kylo,” she says, but her voice is breathless, not firm like she intended. She wants to tell him to let go of her throat at the same time she wants to demand, Squeeze harder. 

“I didn’t want to go home to an empty bed,” he murmurs, kissing the side of her neck. “I wanted to be with you.”

A small, strangled sound burns the back of Rey’s throat. 

“Kylo,” she says again, and that’s when she realizes that she’s pushing back into him _hard_. With each slow roll of his hips, Rey finds herself moving her ass up and down the length of him. “ _Please_.” 

Whether she’s begging him to stop or not becomes irrelevant. Kylo’s grip on her neck tightens, ripping a startled gasp from her throat, and he angles her head so her neck is arched just a little. He guides her head to his shoulder, and then the hand on her stomach dips lower.

He slips beneath the thin band of her shorts and murmurs approvingly when he finds she’s not wearing any underwear. Rey adjusts the position of her thighs...and Kylo’s hand cups her.

“ _Yes_ ,” he sighs, “oh, yes, baby.” 

Her heart is positively _hammering_ now. Rey hopes he doesn’t hear its frantic rhythm. _How embarrassing,_ she thinks, fretting, but then a single, thick finger slips inside her, and her thoughts scatter.

“Oh!” she gasps as his finger begins to move. It’s an unusual sensation, to have a warm part of someone else’s body inside her, when previously the only thing she’s shoved up there are, like, tampons and the occasional dildo. Oh, but _this_ …

Kylo continues to exert pressure on the sides of her neck, and his lips trail across her jaw, down her exposed throat, and over her shoulder. Thick, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that make a loud suction noise as they part from her skin. His saliva glistens wetly, and although Rey can’t really see it, she can sure as hell _feel_ it. 

Kylo inserts a second and third finger inside her cunt, stretching her walls to their limits.

“Gotta get you ready,” he pants, his dick like steel now against her backside. “Make sure you can take _all_ of me.”

Rey somehow knows exactly what he’s talking about, and as he plunges his fingers in and out of her pussy, it goes from just wet to absolutely soaked. The lewd squelch his fingers make every time he dives back in drives her to the edge. 

“So wet, baby,” he moans into her neck, hips rolling. “You--How are you so fucking _wet_.” 

Rey whimpers, feeling the tension within her build to an unbearable pitch. His fingers are… And the _squelching_ … How is she supposed to…

Kylo bites her shoulder, and Rey’s orgasm launches through her body like a missile. 

She cries out, body shuddering against his, and her hands, which have only lain uselessly atop the mattress until now, claw at his forearm. His fingers continue to pump, and Rey feels her cum dribbling from her pussy like water from a faucet. There’s so _much_ of it. Is this normal? 

Kylo continues to sink his teeth into her skin, his grunts muffled. She shamelessly grinds herself on his hand, needing this release so fucking badly. All the times she’s touched herself, all the times she’s imagined what it’ll be like to have a man’s hands on her—never once had she ever imagined anything close to _this_. 

_Please,_ she thinks mindlessly. _Please, please touch me._

After a minute—or maybe two or three —Rey’s whimpers taper off. Her body shudders one last time and then goes limp. Kylo has stopped pumping, but his fingers are still inside her, his thumb still slowly stroking her folds. She murmurs her satisfaction, and Kylo finally removes his teeth from her skin. He licks the mark once, twice, with broad sweeps of his tongue, before pressing a light kiss to the wound.

He pulls away and whispers in her ear. “Oh, I know, baby, I know you want it.”

She hums, eyes closed, muscles lax, body sated and sleepy.

“You’re ready for me now,” he adds, and before Rey can so much as open her eyes, Kylo’s moving on top of her. 

He presses her stomach-down, and then leans back so he’s straddling her waist. With a flick of his wrist, her crop top is pulled up and over her head. He wiggles her tiny shorts down her legs until they tangle at her feet. In a blink, she’s completely naked before him.

“Kylo!” she gasps, squirming underneath him. _Bad idea_ , she realizes, remembering the poisition of his cock.

When he presses his body down on hers again, the bare skin of his chest meets her back. He’s shirtless now. The thought muddles her brain a little. He keeps his weight lifted above her, braced on his elbows to either side of her head, and his long legs push at her knees. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, Rey,” he promises, his voice even deeper than before—like he’s speaking through broken-up gravel. “I’m gonna fuck you and fuck you and _fuck_ you.” 

Holy shit. 

Rey presses her mouth to the mattress and moans. She wants this, of course she does, but she isn’t sure she should. _Much too old for you,_ that little voice in the back of her head reminds her. _This is incredibly stupid, Rey._ But it’s so distant now, so very far away. 

Kylo pushes against her thighs, and they part willingly. He’s kissing along her spine now. Wet kisses. The tip of his tongue presses against her skin between each one. Rey trembles uncontrollably. 

“I know you want this,” he rasps again, excited. “I know you want my cock, Rey. You can tell me.”

She whimpers, and he slowly drags his length up and down the slickness between her thighs. He groans a little at the sensation.

“Fill you with cum,” he grits out through clenched teeth, picking up the pace. His cock slips easily over her pussy lips, the tip parting her folds with each short thrust. The bed-springs squeak softly. 

Rey’s hands dig into the mattress, fingers hooked into claws. She’s gripping so tightly the sheets bunch in her fists. 

Her hips are pushing back against his own with every thrust, ass perched above his massive dick. She hasn’t seen it yet, but oh can she feel it. How thick and ridged with veins, how hot and pulsing and _needy_. 

_We shouldn’t,_ Rey thinks, even as she rolls her hips mindlessly against him, _we shouldn’t, we shouldn’t._

Kylo bites her shoulder hard enough to break skin, and she convulses under him. 

“Ask me,” he pants in her ear. “Ask me to fuck you, baby.” 

Rey cries out, half-pained, half-ecstatic, and Kylo takes it as an invitation.

With his next thrust, he buries himself inside her. 

A choked cry strangles in Rey’s throat. This isn’t soft or gentle or slow. Kylo sheathes himself in her pussy up to the hilt, his hips pushing and pushing and _pushing_ to get as deep inside of her as possible. She feels her walls expand and contract, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. 

She takes a second—just one—to breathe, and that’s all Kylo gives her. One moment he’s buried all the way inside her, and the next he’s pulling out until nothing but the tip presses against her folds...then he slams back inside. The pain is exquisite at first, but it’s quickly edged out by a strange sort of pleasure. 

Her hips jerk, her body bumping further up the mattress. His thrusts come fast and hard, relentless. He strokes down _deep_ until his balls smack her ass, and then he’s withdrawing, making sure she can feel the long, thick length of him. Then again. _Stroke, withdrawal._ And again. _Stroke, withdrawal._

Rey cries out, mouth pressed to the mattress to muffle the sound. Half-sobbing, she takes him fully each time, grasping for control as he mercilessly drives into her. The harsh, wet smack of their hips meeting and the constant squeal of the bedsprings as he strokes down are the only sounds in the bedroom for a long, long time. 

Kylo’s breaths are fast and shallow. He’s leaning fully on her now, his chest to her back, his knees bent between her spread legs. 

“So small,” he grunts between thrusts, one hand roughly kneading her breasts. “My Rey is such a tiny girl. _Perfect_ for me.”

She whimpers, trapped between extreme pleasure and creeping dread. Rey has wanted Kylo for as long as she can remember, in any way, in all ways, and yet some part of her knows that this isn’t right. He shouldn’t look at her the way he does. 

But that’s exactly her problem. The wrongness of it all has only ever deepened her arousal. It’s fucked, but what can she say except _take me_. 

Kylo’s rhythm grows frantic and sloppy. He pumps into her like a jackhammer, cock penetrating in short, tight strokes. Rey moans and tries to meet him thrust for thrust, but his pace is too frenzied. 

“ _Cum_ ,” he growls, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna cum in your pussy, Rey.”

She barely hears him over the wet sounds of their bodies as they join together. 

But then he leans close to her ear, his breath like a windstorm, and moans desperately, like something inside him is being torn apart. She’s never heard him sound like this before. 

“ _Baby...baby in you_.” His rhythm, somehow, gets even faster. Rey’s eyes roll back in her head. “ _Gonna put a baby in your pretty belly._ ”

This registers dimly. Her mind manages to form the thought and push it from her mouth.

“Pull out,” she gasps, head bobbing every time he thrusts. “Please, Kylo, you need pull out, _please_.” 

_Fuck,_ she thinks, body tensing. _I didn’t even— I— How could I forget a condom?_

Kylo keeps going, his hips jerking without any sort of rhythm, hands braced against her back to keep her still, head down as he moves erratically.

“Kylo,” she cries, thrashing against him as she feels his cock begin to twitch. “ _Pull out!_ ” 

But he doesn’t listen. Or maybe he genuinely doesn’t hear her, too lost in his own pleasure. Her heart climbs into her throat. The dread, all at once, becomes unbearable, suffocating.

“ _No_ ,” she gasps, even as her body jerks and pumps and convulses against his needily. 

Kylo groans, his pace faltering, and a jet of cum pulses into her. He lays across her back and claps a hand to her mouth; she’s been moaning so loudly the crickets outside her window have gone quiet. 

Another splash of cum. And another. An endless stream. 

_But I have to go to college,_ she thinks wildly, his thighs tightening around her hips. 

Yet in the next breath her own orgasm lets loose, her arousal mingling with his seed. With a sound halfway between a moan and a sob, Rey grinds her ass against his cock and milks him greedily, walls clenching around his cock to keep him sheathed. 

“My horny little girl,” Kylo grunts as he empties himself inside her. “So eager for my cum, aren't you.” 

She moans her assent, and together they slow their pace until Kylo’s hips sway lazily in and out of her soaked cunt. He’s gone mostly soft, but he’s still buried to the hilt, and Rey knows that he’ll stiffen again with the slightest prompting. 

“Fucking _phenomenonal_ ,” he rasps into her hair, chest heaving against her back. 

Normally, having someone on top of her—someone who’s significantly bigger and weighs twice as much—would make Rey feel suffocated. Claustrophobic. But in her limp, satiated state, she finds the pressure and the warmth reassuring. There’s no more dread, no more anxiety or panic. Her mind has been wiped clean. 

_Wouldn’t it be nice to fall asleep to this feeling every night?_ she thinks drowsily. 

Kylo withdrawals and rolls off her back a minute later, then flips her over so she’s on her side. Face-to-face now, Rey can see the expression he’s wearing, and it’s one that gives her a thrill. 

Pure intensity. His brown eyes are bright, his nostrils flared, jaw tight. 

“That’s how a man fucks his woman, baby,” he tells her, voice low. Simmering with barely repressed emotion--she doesn't know what. “And from now on, Rey, you are _mine_.” 

“Am I?” Her voice comes from very far away, and she finds that she’s relatively unbothered by...well, everything. She just wants him next to her. Or inside her. Either is fine. 

Her worry about protection seems inconsequential now. What’s a condom compared to a feeling like this? 

Kylo growls and shifts so he can loom over her. Grasping her throat again in his large hand, he squeezes until her eyes open wide. And then he leans down and licks her nipple. 

“You wanna ask me again?” he challenges, and against her leg his cock stiffens to a familiar length. 

Rey licks her lips nervously. Kylo has a temper, she’s always known this, but how that rage translates to _sex_ … Well, she wants to find out if it’s _always_ this hot. She has a feeling tonight was just a small taste. And so what if he didn’t wear a condom? So what if he came inside her? Rose told her months ago that it’s super rare to get pregnant the very first time. 

_You are mine._

The pure possession in that statement makes her wet between the legs again. Rey looks up into his hard, handsome face, and all her worries and concerns fade away. Everything’s going to be okay—of _course_ it is. How can it not be, when she has someone who looks at her like he’ll tear down walls to get to her? 

“Am I?” she asks again, voice low and challenging. Deliberate. With those two words, she knows there’s no going back now. 

Rey watches as Kylo’s eyes darken, his pupils expanding until they nearly fill the whole of his eyes. His hand tightens on her throat while the other pushes down on her stomach. 

“Wrong answer,” he murmurs, and shifts to take his place between her legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **i wrote most of this fic a while ago but it needed some editing & im lazy 😌**
> 
> **oh yah fic title is named after an edgar allan poe short story bc im emo and chap titles are from LP's "Reanimation" album**
> 
> say hi!  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/naboojakku)  
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naboojakku/?hl=en)


	2. Kyur4 th Ich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **complete nonsense**

Rey spends the following days contemplating why it’s taken her so long to find good dick. Or, well, any dick at all, frankly. 

Kylo creeps into her bedroom every night after Uncle Luke goes to sleep. Invited or not, he makes quick work of his clothes and hers before pulling the covers over them both, forming a snug little cave that quickly overheats to a sauna. 

“Why not your place?” she asks every time. 

“It’s more fun this way,” he’ll tell her, like that means anything. 

It’s a good thing she’s secretly wanted Kylo for years. Surviving on scraps of his attention has done nothing but strengthen her desire. Rey knows—as well as she knows that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west—that even if she told him _no_ , if she told him _I don’t want this_ , he would likely disregard it. She doesn’t _want_ to believe it—that he would ignore her protests in favor of his own interests—but the way he acts sometimes convinces her that escape might be...if not impossible, at least _improbable_. They’re next-door neighbors, after all; he has ridiculously easy access to her and very few obstacles. 

Access he has no problem abusing. Obstacles he has no issue obliterating. 

He fucks her to sleep with the same frenzied energy as that first night. Sometimes she’ll even wake up in the middle of the night—-as early as midnight or as late as four in the morning, it doesn’t matter—-to find him buried inside her once again. He’ll grind against her cunt until he cums and then, without a word, he’ll drop off to sleep again with her breast cupped in one big hand.

In the intervening hours she continues to wonder why they can’t just go to his house—Kylo lives alone—but something about all the sneaking around really turns him on, she supposes. He relishes the thought of fucking her a few feet from Luke’s room. Of course, he’s never said as much, but Rey’s managed to clue in a little. Hard not to when an expression of pure rage instantly comes over his face anytime the name Luke is mentioned in his hearing. 

In the morning she’ll rise first, an internal alarm forcing her awake before Uncle Luke raps on the door and tells her to get ready for school. Unfortunately, she hasn’t once managed to extricate herself from Kylo’s grasp without waking him too. Then another round of fucking commences, with her ass in the air and her face pressed to the mattress to muffle her screams. Sometimes she’ll try to fend him off, but he’ll simply pinch her hips and slap her ass until she settles. 

Kylo likes to lounge in her bed, covers tossed to the side, hands crossed behind his head, while she scurries about collecting her school things. The homework she neglected, the pens she’s always lending and losing, the folders overflowing with sheafs of note paper. He’ll watch, bemused, as she applies makeup and tosses her hair into a unique three-bun style. She’ll often have to readjust a second or even third time if Kylo’s in a particularly playful mood. 

“Oh, baby, I love your hair,” he’ll coo, burying his face in her neck. Sometimes he’ll straddle her waist to keep her still. But only when there’s time to waste. He doesn’t want Uncle Luke to come up and yell at her for being late. 

Other days, if she wakes early enough, Rey will stumble into the shower, needing to rinse herself of last night's evidence. But no matter how carefully she climbs from the bed, Kylo is always hot on her heels. He’ll fuck her up against the wall, or bent over with her hands on the tub’s edge, or even flat on her back on the tub floor. When they really get into it, Kylo will lift her into his arms so she can wrap herself around him like a koala, and he’ll fuck her just like that, in mid-air, braced on nothing but his cock. 

Rey has never truly appreciated just how strong Kylo can be until he’s performing near-acrobatic feats like this during shower time. 

Sometimes Rey will race to the bus stop only to realize that, for all Luke’s attentiveness at home, once she’s out the door it’s like she stops existing to him. Not _once_ has he ever checked up on her at school. So instead Rey will meander to the bus stop, knowing she has plenty of time to spare. 

Sometimes she’s slow enough for Kylo to catch up. 

Pulling up beside her in his vintage Ford Mustang, muscled arm hanging out the window, Kylo will call, “Hey, pretty lady. Need a lift?”

And with a wild glance down both ends of the street, she’ll jump in the passenger side, squealing as he peels off down the quiet neighborhood street. 

Of course Kylo will park in the very back of the lot, away from all the buses and teachers. He’ll lock the doors, turn up the music, and pull her into his lap. With little effort he’ll have her panties off, his jeans unzipped, and in the next moment she’ll be impaled on his swollen cock. As if she never left. 

Car sex, in Rey’s carefully researched opinion, is very close to being the _best_ sex. She loves the crude squeal of the car’s hinges as she rides Kylo almost as much as she loves the squeak of the mattress springs at home when he mounts her. 

The windows fog up, the outside world hazy and untouchable for a brief time, and Rey’s screams always go completely unnoticed in the chaos of the early morning rush. 

Sometimes Kylo will take his time, teasing her with gentle prods of his cock, holding her hips still, fending off their combined orgasms in a torturous game of _Who Can Hold Out Longer?_

Even knowing she only has minutes to spare before homeroom, Rey will jump at the chance for a round two or even three. She doesn’t beg, but only because she doesn’t have to; it’s like Kylo knows her mind better than she does. Or maybe her desperate whimpering and whining gives her away. Hard to tell.

After half an hour of whispered promises and crazed thrusting, Kylo will slap her ass and tell her to get to class in a gruff, no-nonsense voice that drags across her libidio. She’ll emerge from the car in a burst of heat, her thighs sticky, weak in the knees, hair mussed, makeup in need of fixing. 

She’s taken to wearing skirts, for obvious reasons. He prefers them. 

“Bye, baby!” Kylo will call, whistling and smirking when she ducks her head. 

But, curiously enough, he always waits until she enters the building before peeling out of the parking lot.

After school, Rey will wait a few feet away from the other kids who refuse to take the bus for various reasons. Maybe they’re avoiding a bully. Maybe they’re having a fight with their best friend. Maybe they’re so rich they can afford to have their dad’s driver chauffeur them around. Whatever the reason, Rey doesn’t care. Her mind is consumed with thoughts of Kylo--where he is and what he's doing while she's at school--and has little room for anything else.

He’ll pick her up on the side of the building, out of view of anyone nosy enough to wonder what a seventeen-year-old high school senior is doing hopping into a thirty-one-year-old man’s car wearing a skirt short enough it could very well be underwear. Not that it's any of their business, but they don't want any unnecessary attention. 

Kylo often shows his appreciation for these outfit selections by yanking her skirt up at a stoplight. She’ll fight, but half-heartedly, and he’ll lean over and sink his teeth into her upper thigh. Rey will shriek, Kylo’s head will pop up out of her lap, and the other drivers will give them funny looks. 

Another surprise: Rey has come to love, of all things, parking lots. Sometimes it’s the mall. Other times it’s a pizza joint. Maybe a block of doctor’s offices. Whatever the case, Kylo will unerringly find the most secluded spot, park the car facing the street, and fuck her so hard and usually for so long that, by the end, her throat’s hoarse from screaming. The driver’s seat is their first choice, but backseat sex is fun too.

Then Kylo will have no choice but to drive her home. Rey told Uncle Luke after their first day of marathon sex that she signed up for the student council. Lots of meetings and fundraisers. She needed a way to account for all the lost hours she spent milking Kylo’s cock, and this turned out to be the perfect cover.

They’ll get to her house around six or seven; late enough for it to be dark out, but not so late her uncle will start to worry. Not that he really notices her whereabouts anyway. 

With a searing kiss and a look that melts her every time she sees it, Kylo will let her go. Rey will exit the car and quietly enter her house.

The next few hours are unbearable. Dinner. Another shower. Homework. Lately she’s only been getting halfway through her homework before her attention wanders. 

_That’s a great place,_ she’ll think absently, staring at her rug by the bookcase. _Or over there. Right up against the window._

Then nine o’clock will _finally_ arrive, Luke will bid her goodnight, and Rey will shove aside any pretense of productivity. She’ll toss her homework aside and get dressed in flirty little pajama sets with matching designs and material so thin Kylo’s already ripped and replaced several. In fact, half her wardrobe has been paid for by him, and new packages arrive daily, filled with even shorter skirts and lacy bras. No underwear though; he’s told her to stop wearing panties altogether, and she doesn’t want to upset him. She's noticed how volatile he gets if she does something noticeably wrong or leaves him for an extended amount of time; upsetting him is not something she wants to make a habit of.

Clock ticking away the seconds, Rey will sit cross-legged on the bed, hands fidgeting in her lap, wondering if this’ll be the night he doesn’t show. If this is the night he realizes he’s tired of her. If he'll abandon her like so many others. Ignore her like Luke. 

But she never has to wait long. 

The second Kylo’s through the window, feet firmly planted on the floor, Rey launches herself into his arms. He catches her faultlessly every time, as if his arms have been waiting all day to hug her close to his chest.

“I missed you,” he’ll whisper, voice all husky and soft, and she’ll kiss him sloppily on the lips, so grateful he chose to come back. 

“I missed you too,” she’ll tell him, and in minutes she’s naked and writhing under him.

And so it goes.

Until.

Three weeks after their first encounter in the dead of night, Rey’s running late. She’s in English class, the last of the day, lost in daydreams of Kylo’s throbbing cock and filthy, whispered words. Under the desk, her crossed legs clench tight, thighs quivering, as she imagines, in great detail, watching Kylo’s dick slide in and out of her pussy, reflected back at them in her full-length mirror. She’s building up to their mutual climax when the bell rings, and then she’s scrambling to pack up her notes.

Usually Rey’s on the edge of her seat, but today she’s distracted. Today is Friday, the day Uncle Luke leaves to attend a work conference several hundred miles away. A long weekend all by herself.

Kylo’s already promised to move in the second Luke’s car backs out of the driveway.

Cursing, Rey jumps from her seat, scattering pencils. She frantically grabs her notebooks and shoves them into her limited edition Hello Kitty backpack, tossing in random scraps of paper, gum wrappers, and a bottle of pear-scented lotion. She stubs her toe on the corner leg of her desk in her mad dash to escape and has to squeeze her eyes shut against the pain. 

Then she’s off.

The hallways are mostly empty, but Rey dodges expertly around the few straggling students still left. As she approaches the exit door in the right wing of the school, she takes a moment to survey herself. 

Today’s outfit is a skin-tight white blouse, sheer enough she can trace the outline of her bra. Both the bra and the tightness of the material (Kylo bought an extra small instead of her normal small, the bastard) at least make her breasts look fabulous, even if it itches. They’re at least twice as big as normal, and the collar is low enough that she received quite a few side-eyed looks from teachers throughout the day. Mostly male teachers, but whatever. 

Her skirt is a pastel pink and so short it barely covers her ass--another Kylo specialty. Knee-high socks—white with parallel stripes at the top that match her skirt—are paired with cute white Vans. Rey’s always been very into color-coordinated outfits, but since this whole thing with Kylo started, she’s been obsessive about matching the clothes he buys for her. The least she can do in return is look nice for him. 

Her hair is up in her typical three-bun style, although random strands have escaped throughout the day. She briefly considers fixing it once she’s in the Mustang, but then nixes the idea. Kylo will only mess it up later. 

No makeup save for a light pink gloss that makes her lips pretty and shiny. No jewelry; they learned that the hard way when Kylo cut his lip on an earring during an intense makeout session before school last week.

With a bounce in her step, skirt swishing around her thighs, Rey smiles and thinks of all the naughty things Kylo will do to her this weekend. She shivers and nearly breaks into a run as she nears the exit.

“Rey!” someone calls loudly from behind her. “Rey, wait up!”

Startled, she turns around to see her classmate, Poe Dameron, striding toward her. He’s waving his hand high above his head, as if she’ll miss him. With a laugh, Rey waves goofily back.

“Hey, what’s up, Dameron?”

Poe is a senior like her, but he’s already nineteen. Something about missing a year when he was young. Or maybe he failed out; she can’t really remember and doesn't care enough to find out.

Poe swaggers to a stop in front of her, hands in his pockets like he wasn’t just running full-tilt after her. His dark brown hair is carefully disheveled, the stubble lining his jaw marking him a desirable target for the girls in their year. He’s wearing a snug pair of jeans and a tee-shirt that bares his tanned, lightly muscled arms. He's the worst kind of jock--the kind that knows he's desirable. 

Rey glances at her phone impatiently.

“Glad I caught you,” Poe says, flashing a smile. He leans up against a row of lockers, and she steps toward him so they’re not blocking the hallway. 

“Yeah,” Rey says, distracted. She hopes Kylo waits for her. She’s the latest she’s ever been today. Will he drive off without her? 

“So listen,” he says in a low voice, moving closer. “I’ve been hearing...rumors.”

This piques her interest, and she refocuses on him. “What kind of rumors?”

Poe shrugs languidly, but peeks at her to gauge her reaction. “About you and Solo.”

“My neighbor?” She scrunches up her nose, as if the very thought of him doesn’t get her wet. 

He nods. “Yeah, so, a little birdie told me she spotted you and Solo in his car at night.” He pauses dramatically. “In a deserted parking lot.” 

Rey rubs her lips together anxiously. _Damn,_ she thinks. _And I thought we were being so careful!_

Poe raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Are you guys…?”

She can see it on the tip of his tongue— _fucking_. But Rey tilts her head quizzically, the picture of innocent confusion.

Poe places a hand on the lockers above her head and leans down. “You know….” But Rey continues her charade of purposeful misunderstanding, forcing him to blurt, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Oh. Rey frowns. “Uh, what? No.”

His question throws her. Yes, they’re together in the most literal sense, but that doesn’t mean he’s her boyfriend. They’re not in a relationship, they're... She thinks for a second, biting her lip, then brightens. _Fuck buddies._ That’s the perfect way to describe their arrangement. 

Although she wishes differently, Rey is under absolutely no illusions that this thing with Kylo will last. She’s just his latest shiny toy. She doesn’t mind, so long as he’s nice and continues to buy her things and shower her with attention. 

Yet the idea of him with anyone else twists her stomach into knots. 

“Well, you know, I don’t want to encroach or anything,” Poe’s saying, his face really close to her own now like they're sharing a secret, “but if there’s nothing going on there, maybe you and I can—“

There’s a loud bang, which makes Rey jump. Poe withdrawals the hand that’s reaching for her chin. She doesn’t want to imagine what she would’ve done if he got a hold of her. Scream, maybe, or slap it away like a little girl. 

Rey turns around, thankful for the interruption, and sees--

“Kylo?” she says, momentarily taken aback. He shouldn’t be here. The school officials tend to get panicky if a random man shows up on school grounds unexpectedly. As they should. 

But Kylo doesn’t even glance her way. Instead he strides right up to Poe and knocks his arm off the lockers. Poe straightens, but Kylo’s gotten the drop on him and shoves Poe back.

Stumbling, Poe huffs, “Hey man, what the fuck’s your problem?”

Kylo gets right up in his face. Poe’s tall, at least six feet, but Kylo has an additional few inches, and he uses those inches to loom over the younger boy. 

“My problem,” Kylo says in a low voice, a voice like thunder, “is you standing too close to my girl.”

Poe stammers, looking wildly between Kylo and Rey, obviously at a loss. 

_My girl._

“If you weren’t still in high school,” Kylo continues, his body coiled like he means to strike, “I would beat the shit out of you.”

Poe gapes, still speechless, and Rey can’t blame him. All she can do is watch with astonishment. She knows Kylo has a temper, but to see him like _this_ …

“I guess this’ll have to do,” Kylo says gruffly, then takes Poe by the throat and slams him against a row of lockers.

Rey gasps and stumbles back a step.

Eye-to-eye, Kylo bending his head just a bit, he says in a deceptively calm voice, “I don’t want to see you talking to Rey again. I don’t want to see you touching her or going near her or even _looking_ at her. Do you understand me, boy?”

Poe swallows loudly and nods. 

“Tell me you understand.”

Poe’s eyes slide to Rey, but then, remembering Kylo’s threats, quickly focus back on him. “I—I understand. Sir.”

Kylo nods slowly, eyes intent on Poe’s face. “Let’s hope you do.”

He releases the younger man abruptly, and Poe catches himself against a wall. With one last frightened look, he dashes down the opposite end of the hallway. 

Wide-eyed, hands curled up by her mouth, Rey tracks Kylo as he turns around and strides toward her. His eyes are black. Without a word, he takes her hand in his and leads her to his idling Mustang. The high school parking lot is almost completely deserted now, so they don’t have any trouble navigating out of the lot. 

“Seat belt,” Kylo growls, and Rey’s frozen hands fumble with the strap. At a red light, he leans over, pries the belt out of her fingers, and clicks it into place. 

Rey swallows, watching the way his body’s tensed. Like he’s expecting to hit or get hit. She notes this is apparently a normal way for him to hold himself. 

Hesitantly, Rey reaches for him across the seat. He can’t hold her right now, obviously, but she needs to touch him. To make sure he’s really here, that what just happened actually...well, happened.

“Don’t touch me right now,” he grinds out through clenched teeth, then adds, “please.” 

Withdrawing, Rey cradles her hands to her chest and stares out the windshield, heart beating wildly as Kylo tears down the streets, barely pausing for stop signs. His hands are in tight, white-knuckled fists on the wheel.

 _Did I do something wrong?_ she wonders, tears in her eyes. _He’s so angry. I probably upset him._

Stung by his indifference, Rey sinks into her seat and doesn’t blink until Kylo pulls into his driveway. They sit there in silence, the engine ticking as it cools. The sky’s an ominous gray, and a light drizzle paints the lawn a dewy green. 

It isn’t until Rey’s climbing from the car that she realizes there are tears on her cheeks. She pauses, hand on the open car door, and imagines the fury on Kylo’s face again. Directed at _her_ , this time. _What did I do? He_ hates _me_. 

Her face crumbles, and a sob escapes.

Kylo’s out of the car like a shot, hands reaching for her before he’s even made it to her side. She cries openly, and Kylo picks her up, arms hooking under her bottom. She hugs him around the neck, burying her face in his shoulder as he carries her like a toddler up the front steps. She doesn't care--he hates her. 

He kicks the door to his house open and settles her on the couch in the living room. She draws into herself, hands covering her face, but Kylo pulls her into his lap. 

“I didn’t mean to—“ Kylo fumbles with her hands, trying to pry them from her face. “Christ, Rey, I’m—“

She curls into his chest, and she feels him press his face to her neck. He rocks them back and forth, making soft, soothing noises. His heart beats frantically under her ear.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, sounding terrified. “Please, Rey, baby—“

She sniffles, wiping her swollen eyes with the backs of her hands like a little kid. “I’m sorry,” she croaks, keeping her head down.

“What?” He shakes his head. “No, no, you have nothing to apologize for. You’re _perfect_.”

Kylo holds her tightly to his chest, breathing slowly like he’s meditating. When he speaks, his voice is low and husky. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry, Rey. My temper...” He rubs a tired hand over his face. “Sometimes I can’t control myself. And when I saw that... _prick_ ,” he spits, “crowding you, my mind just—” 

Rey nods into his chest, still shaking. _Does this mean he's not mad at me?_

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, kissing the crown of her head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He punctuates each apology with a light kiss on her forehead, temple, and the soft spot right behind her ear. 

He clutches her close to his chest, swaying them gently side-to-side. Rey’s eyes start to shutter closed, and she drifts off to sleep listening to the patter of the rain outside and the steady beat of Kylo’s heart. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her all-consuming desire for Kylo hasn’t started to worry her, not yet, but she can tell it’s coming. She always wants people more than they want her, and it's something she probably won't ever be able to correct. 

When she wakes however many hours later, she instinctively reaches out for him. She’s grown so dependent on him being there when she first wakes up that the cool emptiness beside her is startling. 

Rey sits abruptly, her skirt bunched around her hips. At first she doesn’t recognize the room, but then it comes back to her in a flood: Poe, the rumors, Kylo, the silent car ride, crying, falling asleep in his lap. 

Rey’s at _his_ house.

She knows what a rarity this is. They agreed after the first week that it’s best to avoid his house at all costs. The neighbors are nosy, and he doesn’t want her seen entering and exiting his house at odd hours. She gets it. 

At least, that’s one explanation. Whether it’s the truth or not—whether he’s secretly embarrassed to be seen with her—is another matter.

But now…. Now she’s in his house. Worse, he carried her there in the middle of the day. 

Rey doesn’t know what the repercussions will be, but she fears them all the same. Maybe Kylo will want to stop seeing her now that there’s a high chance a neighbor saw them together. Maybe it’s all fun and games until they’re discovered. 

She shuffles around on the couch until her feet meet solid ground. She yawns and blearily looks around for a clock. 

“You’re awake.”

Kylo’s beside her in an instant, sitting next to her, so close their thighs touch. His expressioon is open, searching. He reaches out, hesitant, and when she doesn’t move, tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Did you sleep well?”

Rey nods, eyes on his face, drinking him in. “I was so tired, I didn't realize...”

He shrugs, pulling her hand into his lap. “It happens.” With a feather-light touch, Kylo lifts her wrist to his mouth and kisses the tips of her fingers. “I missed you,” he mumbles.

“I’m right here,” she says with a breathless little laugh. _He's not angry, he's not angry, he's not angry_ runs through her head like a broken record. 

“I know.”

Rey can’t decipher the expression on his face or the tone of his voice, but she shoves those concerns aside and asks, “What time is it?”

“After four.” He kisses her palm, eyes on her face.

But she straightens, alarmed. “It is?” _Oh no, oh no, oh no._ Uncle Luke’s supposed to leave for his conference by three-thirty. “I need to go home—“

Kylo yanks her back down on the couch. “I don’t think so.”

She stares at him, bewildered. “Kylo, my uncle—“

He shakes his head and presses a hard kiss to her mouth. “He’s gone already. I called to let him know you were here.”

She gapes, not understanding. “W—what?”

“I told him you were doing a school project. Interviewing me about my job or whatever.” He waves his hand dismissively.

None of this is making sense to her. “But...but I thought you didn’t want him to know we...talk.” _That’s a gentle way of putting it,_ she thinks, wincing.

“Eh, I got over that,” he says casually, dragging her into his lap. He says this like it means nothing. Like it isn't the basis for their _entire_ relationship. Or whatever it is they have. 

Obviously unconcerned, Kylo starts kissing her throat, but she won’t be so easily distracted this time.

“I’m...confused,” she says, pushing on his chest. He reluctantly pulls away, grumbling unhappily.

“What about?”

She blinks. “Weren’t you concerned about the neighbors?”

“I mean, to an extent.” He winds a loose strand of her hair around his index finger. “I didn’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

Rey treads carefully. “The wrong idea?”

“About us.”

“Oh,” she says weakly. “Right.”

 _Not dating. Not in a relationship. Not your boyfriend._

Kylo continues, unaware of her discomfort. “My reputation isn’t the best, you know.”

Confused, Rey examines his face for clues. It’s like they’re having two separate conversations. Isn’t he embarrassed by her? He’s made it clear that to be seen with her is something to be avoided at all costs.

But then why did he confront Poe? 

She opens her mouth, but Kylo keeps talking. “I wouldn’t want it to rub off on you.”

“What?”

Kylo smirks a little. “Baby, I know you’re still sleepy, but please try to pay attention.” He flicks her nose playfully. “I wouldn’t want my _reputation_ to rub off on you,” he clarifies. “I’m not exactly the most upstanding guy.” 

“So…” Rey’s mind quickly re-orders her thoughts. “You’re not embarrassed?”

He laughs, surprised. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing for me to be embarrassed by.” 

She nods, still not totally understanding, but decides to sweep the whole conversation to the back of her mind. He might still be lying, but as long as he finds her fuckable, it doesn't matter. She just wants to keep him as close as possible for as long as she can. 

Rey squirms in his lap and throws her arms around his neck. “Can you take me upstairs?”

His arms bound her to his chest like steel cables, squeezing her almost to the point of pain. They stare at each other for a minute, not saying anything. Rey wonders if this is a new game. He's partial to games, but only in bed. 

“I’m sorry...about Poe,” he tells her slowly, as if carefully selecting each word. “That dude’s a little asshole, but more than anything, I want you to be safe.”

“Okay,” she says, not really listening. She wants to see his bedroom. 

“Rey.” He grabs her chin and forces her to look at him. “You need to tell me if anyone tries to do that again.” 

“Do what? We were just talking.” She doesn’t mention it was about the two of them being caught by a classmate. 

Kylo’s face tightens. “He was looking at you like he wanted to _eat_ you, Rey. I know that look. Maybe it was just a conversation for _you_ , but to him, it was..." He trails off, sweeping his thumb across her cheek. "He wanted to see how fast he could get his hands under your skirt.”

“Hey!” Alarmed, she swats his shoulder. “Don’t talk like that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Kylo…” Her fingers pick at his collar anxiously. She doesn’t like...whatever this is. She’s not friends with Poe, but it’s not possible he’s ever thought of her like _that_. Boys have never paid her the slightest bit of attention. 

Sensing her anxiety, he lets it go. “Just tell me if he does something like that again. Okay?”

She nods, pouting a little.

“I want you to be safe,” he repeats softly, stroking her cheek again. “No one else is allowed to touch you like I do.”

“And how do you touch me?” she asks, tilting her chin. She knows exactly how to get what she wants, and right now, more than anything, she wants to be upstairs in his bed. 

His eyes darken. “Let me remind you.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rey wakes the next morning needing to pee. 

Blearily, she glances at her phone, charging on the bedside table: quarter after ten. She runs her hands through messy, sex-tousled hair, and memories from last night come flooding back in. 

For the rest of the evening and well into the night, Kylo fucked her good and hard as promised. His bed is king-sized, much to Rey’s delight, and they spent hours and hours rolling around in a frenzy, sometimes with the covers pulled over them both, but usually with everything on the floor save the pillows. He more than made up for scaring her earlier in the day. 

Rey slips from the sheets, carefully extricating herself from under Kylo’s arm. She’s thankful he pulled out at some point after they fell asleep because not for a moment last night did he withdraw his cock. She’s beyond sore. 

Even as they rested side-by-side, even as they caught their breath or tried to take it slow, Kylo’s cock remained buried in her pussy. Deep, so deep she feels like a train repeatedly slammed full steam ahead between her thighs. She’s so sore that it takes quite a bit of concentration to make it to the master bath. 

On the toilet, Rey rubs her eyes. Her muscles are stressed to the max, and bruises dot her hips, wrists, and neck. Everything aches, but in a delicious way. Well, mostly. 

They finally tired each other out around four in the morning, although she swears she woke up briefly at one point to the sound of grunting and the rough slide of his cock. But maybe that was just a dream. She wasn't sure what to think of him fucking her while she slept. 

Rey flushes and goes to the sink. In the middle of washing her hands, her blurred reflection catches her eye. She gasps at the sight. There are bite marks not only down both sides of her neck but also on the tops of her breasts. She prods the wounds, hissing a little at their tenderness.

 _He’s marked me,_ she thinks, and shivers.

Rey reenters the bedroom to find Kylo sitting up, arms raised in a stretch above his head. His eyes scour her body, lingering on her breasts and hips.

She climbs back into bed, snuggling under the covers. “It’s early for you, isn’t it?” 

He shrugs, shoulders and muscles rolling languidly. Without answering, he rolls on top of her. Their bodies instantly heat under the covers. His enormous erection prods at the juncture of her thighs.

Sucking on her bottom lip, he murmurs, “Good morning,” and slips inside her soaked folds. 

There's a brief moment of pure agony as her sore muscles clench around him, but then his hips quickly find a familiar rhythm and her body relaxes into the mattress. The bed creaks, the headboard clapping against the wall. She drags her nails down his back hard enough to draw blood and presses her mouth to his shoulder. Arms and legs wrapped around his broad body, she submits to the relentless pounding, needing him more than she will ever admit. 

He finishes a few minutes later, both of their chests heaving as if they’ve run a marathon. Kylo presses his face to the curve of her neck, lapping up the sweat glistening on her skin. 

“Tastes so good,” he mumbles, moving down to suck her peaked nipples into his mouth. 

Rey plays with his messy hair, running her fingers through the thick black strands. “Like silk,” she sighs, trying to memorize the feel.

Kylo laughs against her breast. “You always have a hard-on for my hair.”

“And what of it?” she asks peevishly, secretly delighted by the fact that he seems happy about it.

“It's fucking hot. Don't stop,” he says seriously, then resumes sloppily suckling her nipples.

She watches him through half-lidded eyes as he devours her breasts, occasionally moving up her body to lick from the base of her throat to just beneath her jaw. Rey cries out breathlessly each time, which seems to egg him on. 

In no time at all, he’s positioned himself between her legs, cock probing insistently at her entrance. She’s soaked, her folds glistening with her arousal, but when Kylo nips eagerly at her breasts, she stills him with a firm hand. The first time was hard enough to endure. 

“I’m sore,” she blurts, immediately mortified.

Kylo pauses, the tip of his cock already inside her. He seems confused. “What?”

 _He’s going to make me say it a second time?_ she thinks morosely, cursing herself for even opening her mouth at all. 

“Last night we kind of went a little...overboard,” she mumbles, covering her face. “I’m really sore.”

His fingers wrap around her wrists and gently pry away her hands. She twists her lips and doesn't look at him. 

“Don’t,” he says roughly. “This is my fault.”

“Well, technically it was _both_ of us…” she mutters, not meeting his gaze. She bets the girls he’s usually with don’t have any trouble keeping up with him. That's what she gets for being a loser virgin. 

“No,” he insists, cupping the back of her neck so she can’t move. “I saw all the marks on your body when you came out of the bathroom. I know exactly what I did. But I was selfish and wanted to take you again...and again.”

Rey watches an expression flicker across his face, quickly followed by another, neither of which she can decipher. It's not anger, nor irritation, so she doesn't recognize it. 

“I should’ve been thinking of your needs first,” he finishes, gently massaging her neck. Her eyes automatically slip to half-mast. 

For a long moment neither of them speak, so she startles when his lips suddenly press lightly on hers.

“I’m sorry I was so rough. I’ll do better next time.” His voice is low and husky, subdued. Maybe even...apologetic? 

Rey swallows, then nods. She’s not mad; it’s nobody’s fault her body’s not used to such an intense daily workout. He’s obviously built up a lot of stamina over the years. She quickly banishes the thought, not wanting it in her head. 

“It’s fine,” she assures him, smoothing her hands down his sides. “Can we just...hold off for a little while?” She cringes internally; it’s no secret their relationship is built on impulsive sex. 

But Kylo leans down and kisses the tip of her nose. “Absolutely.”

Then he rolls away, heaves himself from the bed, and strolls into the bathroom, whistling. A minute later, the shower starts. 

Rey’s chest tightens, and she sits up in the empty bed. _He didn’t even ask if I wanted to join._

That’s how she knows it’s all fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **title: “cure for the itch”**
> 
> say hi!  
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	3. p5hng me a*wy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **added another chapter for reasons (i have too much to say, that's the reason)**

Twenty minutes later, Kylo exits the bathroom stark naked but freshly washed and sits next to her on the bed. 

“I have a plan,” he announces, running a hand through his wet hair. When he stretches, muscles flexing, his cock jumps as if electrocuted. 

Rey, in last night’s skirt and bra, tears her attention away from her phone. She quickly closes the internet tab with _how to tell if someone’s planning to break up with you_ in the browser. Pathetic. She knows this. Doesn't make a difference. 

She can’t text her friends about her issue; Kylo’s _not_ her boyfriend, they’re _not_ in a relationship, and she’s pretty sure what they’re doing is technically illegal. Excessive ravishment of a minor or whatever the legalese is. Plus, it’s not really a break-up if they were never going out in the first place, right? It’s been less than a month! Hardly time for a romance, let alone a friendship. 

Regardless, Rey doesn’t want him to see that she’s on to him. She messed up by telling him to back off. If she was smart, she would’ve just let him fuck her until they both imploded. That’s clearly all he wants, and that’s all she has to offer anyway. 

Now she has to pretend she’s totally cool with their impending separation. The worst part is...she _was_ cool with it, until she wasn’t. That transition happened so suddenly she’s not precisely sure when her feelings changed. She doesn’t like to consider maybe this is how she’s felt all along. 

“What kind of plan?” she asks after a beat, placing her phone facedown on the bedside table.

He grins, but it seems a little off—or maybe that’s just her. “Let’s go to that new restaurant on Corellia Ave. The one that serves desserts first.”

At the mention of food, Rey’s stomach gurgles aggressively. It’s been _ages_ since she last ate. At least twenty hours! In all the chaos and drama yesterday, she completely forgot, and there’s no one to remind her of these things. Certainly not Luke. 

“Bespin Fusion?” She lifts herself off the bed and looks for her discarded shirt. She finds it among the sheets on the floor and gently disentangles it. 

Kylo points at her and winks. “That’s the one, babe.”

Rey stands in front of the floor-length mirror, adjusting her clothes and hair. “Don’t you have to make a reservation for that place?”

In the mirror, Kylo’s reflection shrugs, obviously unconcerned. “I can get one.”

Rey hums noncommittally, not really believing he plans to take her out _anywhere_. Well, unless he really does plan on breaking this thing off. Make it a public spectacle. 

Her eyes widen. 

Kylo slides off the bed and saunters over to her, cock bobbing between his legs. He comes up behind her and places his hands on her hips. Their eyes meet in the mirror, and it’s all she can do to continue fussing with her hair instead of begging him to drag her back to bed. She’s desperate, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“What do you say?” he murmurs, kissing the tender spot where her neck and shoulder meet. 

She ignores the shiver that races down her spine and instead smoothes her hair back. “If you want,” she says breezily. 

“Oh, I want,” he says in a low voice, and she feels the pressure of his cock against her ass. He’s already hard; then again, when is he _not_?

“We should go soon,” Rey adds, putting her hands over his where they caress her hips. “I’m starving.” 

Kylo maintains eye contact with her in the mirror as he slides his hands, with hers on top, over her waist and across her stomach. He palms her breasts through her shirt, kneading gently. Rey has to bite her lip to keep from moaning.

“You’re not wearing this,” he says, suddenly releasing her. He moves across the room, pulling out a fresh pair of jeans and a dark blue tee-shirt. 

Rey swallows, watching as he steps into a pair of briefs. The material stretches across his huge thighs and somehow accommodates his thick length. With a wistful sigh, she watches as his cock disappears from view. Playtime’s over. Back to reality. 

“You’re not wearing that,” he repeats, gesturing to her pink skirt and white blouse from yesterday.

“Why not?” she demands. It’s not like she cares what people think, and nobody even pays attention to what she wears anyway. Not Luke or any of her classmates. No one. 

Kylo’s jaw tightens, and he opens his mouth, then seems to think better of it. “You wore that exact outfit to school yesterday. What if you see someone you know? What if they say something?”

Rey frowns. “Fine, but I don’t have any other clothes here. I’ll have to go home to change.” Turning on her heel, she sweeps out the door. 

“ _Hey_. You do _not_ leave without me.” Kylo’s voice is low, and there’s a dangerous note in it that suggests a threat, like he’s a scary mafia boss or something. Rey stops in her tracks and turns back, a laugh bubbling in her throat. Then she realizes he’s serious. 

Shrugging into an expensive-looking leather jacket, Kylo takes his time approaching her. She watches him cross the bedroom, feeling like a deer in headlights. He settles in front of her and, so quickly she doesn’t see it coming, grabs her by the throat.

Rey gasps, but his grip tightens, and the noise chokes off.

“You don’t go anywhere until I say so,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Okay, baby?”

“Okay,” she whispers, staring up at him. What the hell? 

His features soften, and he leans down to kiss her lightly on the mouth. Before he pulls away, he licks up the side of her throat, the only spot not covered by his hand. The move is strangely possessive. 

“Good,” he murmurs huskily, and releases her. 

Rey staggers back a step, but Kylo’s hand is on her lower back to guide her down the stairs. 

Back in her own bedroom, Rey tosses her dirty clothes into the laundry basket. She sniffs a wayward piece of hair, cringes, and scampers down the hallway to the bathroom. But then she freezes when her phone trills. 

Racing back to her room, she picks up her phone and sees there’s a message from an unfamiliar number. 

SUN 11:42 a.m.

**[UNKNOWN]**  
_so the rumors are true_

Rey’s heart slams like a bull in her chest, battering her ribcage. 

SUN 11:43 a.m.

**REY**  
_who is this???_

____

**[UNKNOWN]**  
_who do you think?_

____

A pause, and then— 

____

**[UNKNOWN]**  
_does he rough you up too?_

____

Rey taps frantically at her phone, head light like she might pass out. _Shit, shit, shit!_ How did he get her number? 

____

SUN 11:45 a.m.

____

**REY**  
_dameron_

____

**[UNKNOWN]**  
_that’s right._

____

**REY**  
_what do you want_

____

**[UNKNOWN]**  
_ur fucking a dude twice your age_

____

_Not quite,_ she thinks immediately, then winces. That’s not a great defense. She starts to type, but Poe sends another message before she can get it out. 

____

SUN 11:48 a.m.

____

**[UNKNOWN]**  
_is he forcing you?_

____

**REY**  
_NO. jesus. its not like that._

____

**[UNKNOWN]**  
_so ur dating_

____

**REY**  
_no we just hang out sometimes_

____

**[UNKNOWN]**  
_hang out. right._

____

Rey grinds her jaw, frustrated. He’s really not making this easy, huh? She’s always known he’s a massive douchebag, but this is something else. She peeks out of her bedroom window. The Mustang’s still sitting at the curb, all shiny and flashy and _obvious._ They really aren’t doing much to hide anymore, are they? She’s not sure why or when Kylo stopped caring. 

____

SUN 11:51 a.m.

____

**REY**  
_its none of ur business dameron_

____

**[UNKNOWN]**  
_ur a minor Rey_

____

Her throat tightens. She’s not dumb; of course she knows that just because it’s not a big deal for her does not mean that other people don’t find it a _very_ big deal. Like maybe parents and the law. 

____

Rey takes a steadying breath through her nose before responding. 

SUN 11:52 a.m.

**REY**  
_pls just leave it alone poe. nothing bad is going on. I turn 18 soon anyway. just stay out of it_

There’s a long pause. So long that Rey assumes he’s done just that. But as she heads for the bathroom again, her phone chimes. She trips over herself getting back to it. 

SUN 11:57 a.m.

**[UNKNOWN]**  
_not sure I can do that. the dude's psycho._

Rey holds back tears, and even as they sting her eyes she wants to break something. She cries whenever she gets angry; it’s a curse. So many people have made fun of her for it, but what can she do? People have teased her for a lot less. 

What the hell does he mean, _psycho_? Just because _he_ got tossed around for once, instead of the other way around? Frustrated, she starts typing, but quickly deletes it. Better not to engage him. It'll only encourage him.

Before she leaves her bedroom, she fires off a quick text to Kylo. It’s been too long already, and he likes when she asks permission first before doing anything without him. 

SUN 11:59 a.m.

**REY**  
_can I take a shower?_

The response is immediate.

SUN 12:00 a.m.

**K**  
_Not without me._

She frowns. He’s probably just being difficult, but she can’t afford to upset him again. The way he advanced on her before grabbing her throat is still _very_ fresh. 

SUN 12:01 a.m.

**REY**  
_please?_

A brief pause.

SUN 12:01 a.m.

**K**  
_Make it quick, baby. We need to be on time for our reservation._

From the street, she hears the low rumble of the Mustang’s engine abruptly cut off.

**__********__**

**__********__**

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rey chooses a yellow dress, flimsy and light as air, decorated with sunflowers. It’s one of her favorites. 

The hem brushes the tops of her thighs, and the neckline plunges low enough for her cleavage to be on full display. _Thanks, fifty-dollar push-up bra,_ she thinks, descending the stairs. Her trusty white pair of Vans are on her feet. She’s owned them for almost six months, but they’re still as shiny and spotless as they were in the box. She doesn’t often ask for clothes or new things in general, but every four months or so Luke will hand over a credit card and tell her to go crazy. 

If she’s walking to her doom, she might as well wear her best outfit.

Rey locks up the house, shoving the key into her bra, and hopes she won’t cry when he tells her they can’t fuck anymore. She hasn’t even put on mascara for that very reason. It won’t even be an angry cry; it’ll just be pathetic and weepy. 

Before she’s even settled in the passenger seat, Kylo’s reaching across for her seatbelt. He clicks it into place, then kisses her roughly. His gaze sweeps up and down her body, lingering on her exposed thighs and pumped-up cleavage, but he doesn’t say anything. Not even about the very obvious hickies on her neck she’s done nothing to hide. What would be the point? If he’s not worried about being discovered, then neither should she. 

Instead, he places a large, possessive hand on her upper thigh and pulls away from the curb. 

She doesn’t mention Poe’s texts, and the car ride is a silent one, but thankfully short. Kylo pulls up to Bespin Fusion, which is jam-packed, and somehow slides neatly into a front parking space. 

He’s out of the car and hauling open her door before she’s so much as reached for the handle. Kylo takes her hand and leads her into the restaurant. For some reason, his hands are clammy. Odd—he’s not the nervous type. 

The hostess’s eyes flick over them both, her gaze widening when she sees them hand-in-hand, but she’s unfailingly polite and professional when Kylo tells her the name for their reservation. 

They score a corner booth away from all the chaos. It seems everyone’s celebrating a birthday or early graduation today. Rey tries not to stare too blatantly at all the families and groups of friends. It’s fine. She just isn’t cut out for that kind of thing. 

Kylo lets Rey slide in first. He shucks off his black jacket, exposing broad shoulders and powerful muscles. She has to press her thighs together under the table. He moves in next to her, throwing his arm on the ledge behind the booth, then hooks her foot under his, keeping her trapped against him.

Not like she’s going anywhere. 

The waitress, young and blonde and immediately flustered by Kylo’s presence, fumbles through their dessert order before staggering away. 

Rey watches her go, thinking mean thoughts. When she turns to Kylo, his eyes are riveted on her. 

“I like this dress,” he says finally, his voice rough. 

“Oh,” she says, nervously smoothing the hem. “Thanks. It’s new.”

In fact most of her wardrobe is new, courtesy of him. She’s made it her mission to wear nothing but skirts and dresses for instant access. Although most of them were bought and paid for by him, a select few she purchased on her own, including this dress. 

“What’s the occasion?” she asks, figuring if they don’t blow past this strange, awkward stage, the rest of their meal will be unbearable. 

“Hm?” His attention has already wandered, and Rey feels her throat tighten. “Occasion?”

“Yeah, um,” she falters, “why did you want to come here?” 

Kylo rubs his lips together consideringly. “It’s, ah, different. They serve dessert first and appetizers last, which I thought you’d like.” He shrugs, pulling absently at his collar. “I’ve wanted to take you here for a while. Since opening day.”

Five months ago. “Really?”

He seems to regret telling her this. “Really.”

“Oh,” she says softly, looking down at her lap. “Well, thank you.”

His chest rises and falls with a big, silent breath. “You’re welcome.” 

Their dessert arrives: chocolate brownie sundae for her (with rainbow sprinkles), vanilla milkshake for him. 

“How boring,” Rey teases lightly, and he kisses her cheek. She blushes and forces herself to devour her sundae—she’s still hungry, but her stomach’s a little hollow. 

They order a shared entree, which Kylo seems to eat in four bites, and opt for three appetizers for their final meal: mini crab cakes, pita bread with hummus, and two bowls of red lentil soup. She makes idle comments here and there, and although Kylo responds, he still seems distracted, and he doesn’t kiss her again. 

Her heart begins to crack and she ruthlessly reminds herself, _You aren’t in a relationship! He’s not your boyfriend! He doesn’t even think of you as a valuable person! The only thing he wants from you is sex! Fucking! He probably gets off on the fact that you’re underage! You’re a fantasy, and fantasies always have to end._

Whether that end is happy or not depends on the story. Rey isn’t sure yet which side of the spectrum hers falls on. 

Their appetizers arrive. Rey notices the two alcoholic drinks on their waitress’s tray: one Blue Moon, one fruity martini. Apple, maybe. Or cranberry. Something red. Rey thinks this is a mistake until Kylo takes a sip of his beer.

“Um, Kylo,” she says nervously, quickly glancing around the room to see if anyone’s noticed this glaring error.

“For you,” he says, gesturing to the martini. She notices how restless he is, and when she reaches for the drink, figuring _what the hell, why not, who cares if I’m four years too young_ , he goes still.

She hesitates, her fingers grazing the stem of the glass. “What’s wrong?”

Kylo clears his throat. “Nothing, baby. Cheers?”

She nods and taps her glass against his bottle. Even as she sips—and ugh, how sour!—she’s aware of his eyes on her face, scrutinizing every inch. Rey wonders if she has food stuck in her eyebrow or something and he’s just waiting to see how long it’ll take her to notice.

Rey sips again, then takes a larger mouthful of the martini. _It’s actually not so bad,_ she thinks critically. _I guess the more you drink, the more your taste buds deteriorate. I guess that’s...why people get so wasted on shitty beer._

That’s when she notices the shiny thing at the bottom of the glass. 

Frowning, Rey squints and moves the martini closer to her face to inspect it.

“I think there’s something in my glass.” She really hopes it’s not a bug. If so, an immediate trip to the bathroom is in order. 

Kylo doesn’t say a word as she carefully fishes around for the thing. _If it’s a dead bug, I’m gonna throw up,_ she thinks queasily. _If it’s an alive bug, I’m gonna run screaming from—_

She finally grasps it. Triumphant, Rey lifts the thing out of the martini and takes a moment to inspect it. There are glints of blue and silver, and maybe—is that red? It’s hard to tell, having been dipped in martini juices. But then the shape of it clicks, and Rey’s mouth drops open.

It’s a...ring?

“Uh,” she says, confused. It doesn’t look like a wedding ring, which is a relief, but— “Kylo, I think—”

The words freeze in her throat when she turns to him.

His face is soft, so soft like she’s never seen it before, and his eyes are a light brown, warm and lovely. No darkness, no tension, no smug arrogance in sight. He looks transformed. 

Which doesn’t make sense. “Kylo—”

Gently, he takes the ring and, holding her hand in place, slides it on her left ring finger. He brings her hand to the side of his face and presses it against his cheek.

“Rey,” he breathes, in a voice that aches so much she wants to cling fiercely to him, make wild promises, kiss him all over.

“What...is this?” He’s—There’s no way he’s asking her to marry him, right? Unless he’s playing a sick joke on her for the benefit of the audience. But no one seems to be paying them one lick of attention. 

He swallows loudly. “I wanted to give you something that’ll remind you of the both of us.”

She stares, not understanding. _Remind me?_ Does that mean she’s not going to see him again? 

“You once told me if you had to choose a favorite color, you’d choose silver.”

This is true. Silver represented purity and kindness and happy thoughts—at least in her mind. 

“Well, _my_ favorite color is blue.” He moves her hand where they both can see it. “Silver diamonds and blue sapphires. I also added some rubies. Red for…” He hesitates and finishes gruffly, “How you make me feel.”

“And how do I make you feel?” Rey asks breathlessly, head spinning. She thinks she may be close to passing out. What is going _on_? 

“Passionate,” he says without hesitation, eyes bright. “You make me feel alive.”

Rey touches his cheek, not yet daring to hope. 

“When did you have this made?” She vaguely remembers telling him about her favorite color sometime last month. They were sitting on his back porch, sipping banana smoothies. He kept making her laugh with the wild stories from his youth.

_You’re not that old!_ she remembers chiding him, shoving his shoulder.

Kylo had laughed and nudged her back. _Far too old for you, apparently._

And she had looked him and the eye and said, _I don’t think so._

At the time the conversation had just seemed playful, if a bit flirty. But then, Kylo had always been flirty with her, as far back as she could remember. 

“Later that day,” Kylo says, and she can see in his eyes that they’re both thinking about that conversation. 

Rey gulps. That’s at least three weeks before they started their affair. Before he let himself into her house at two in the morning and wrapped himself around her like an octopus and refused to let go. 

Rey gazes at the tiny stones. So beautiful. So _many._ She looks up at him. “Was this expensive?”

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Maybe a little,” he says nonchalantly, but his expression gives him away. 

“How much?” she demands, holding tightly to his wrist. 

She can tell this amuses him. He snakes his free arm, the one that’s been lounging behind her back, around her waist, tugging her halfway into his lap. Rey knows that the only thing keeping him from pulling her fully atop him is the fact that they’re still very much in public. 

“Can’t tell you that,” he mumbles, kissing the corners of her mouth. His broad back blocks the rest of the restaurant from seeing what’s going on, but it probably doesn’t take much, based on their intimate positioning, to figure it out. Her cheeks heat.

“Please tell me,” she whispers, nuzzling his neck. “I won't be upset.” 

He hums, considering. “Promise?”

She leans back and nods excitedly.

But apparently that’s the wrong move; her excitement has made him suspicious. “Maybe...if you guess correctly…”

“A grand,” she says promptly, and he laughs a little at her eagerness.

“Higher.” His fingers dig into her hips, massaging. Her eyes flutter closed as he skims her bruises. 

“Mmm. Five?” 

“Higher.”

Rey frowns, eyes still shut. A furrow appears between her brows as she thinks.

“Eight grand?”

“Higher,” he repeats, almost before she’s done speaking.

Her eyes pop open. “Are you messing with me?”

“Never.” He says this with such unabashed sincerity that there’s no way she can doubt him. 

“How much higher?”

“Significantly.”

Rey rolls her eyes. “That’s helpful.”

Kylo presses his mouth to her cheek and whispers, “Roll your eyes again and you get nothing.” 

Properly chastised, Rey considers for a minute, then blurts, “Ten grand!” She immediately dissolves into laughter. 

“Double it.”

It’s a few seconds until this registers. “What?” she giggles, thinking, _Yeah, right._

Kylo holds her chin in place, forcing her to look at him. “Double it.” 

The laughter fades away all at once, and she swallows, suddenly nervous. “W—what?” 

“You were close,” he says, caressing her chin. “Twenty.”

“You…” Rey falters, momentarily speechless. “You’re joking.”

He stares unblinkingly back at her.

“You’re….you’re kidding, right? That can’t be true.”

His expression doesn’t waver.

Rey pales and stammers, “Kylo…you’re telling me you s-spent _twenty thousand dollars_ on this ring?” She shoves her hand in his face for emphasis.

“That’s right.” 

She can’t do anything but stare. That’s a number that doesn’t exist to her. Uncle Luke has money, but she never sees any of it, and he’s certainly never spent any significant amount on _her_. 

Kylo kisses her forehead. “Did I break you?” A kiss on her nose. Her jaw. Her bare shoulder. 

“You—how—why did—” Rey closes her eyes and shakes her head viciously. 

“Now, now—“ he says mildly, sensing an impending explosion. 

“I can’t accept this,” she blurts, staring at him, wild-eyed. “There’s no way I can accept this ring! Here,” and she starts working it off her finger, “take it back. I’m sure if you explain to the jeweler that it’s a _ridiculous_ amount of money you’ve spent on—“

Kylo places a hand over both of hers, effectively stopping her frantic efforts to remove the ring, and kisses her hard. Rey expects this is only meant to shut her up, but the kiss goes on...and on...and on. In fact, she can definitely hear diners around then murmuring disapproval. 

Rey finally manages to break the kiss, jerking back with a gasp. 

“Kylo!” she exclaims, stunned. Her eyes zing around the restaurant. People are staring now. “You can’t do that here!” 

“You’re keeping the ring,” he says gruffly. “I won’t hear any more about returning it. You understand?” 

“But—“

“ _Rey._ ” He gives her a hard look. “Do not argue with me on this. I bought this ring for you because you deserve it. If you try to return it yourself or give it away, I’ll just buy you another one.” He smiles darkly. “And this time I’ll spend forty.” 

With no small amount of self-control, Rey stifles all her complaints and buries them deep. “Fine.”

He raises an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

She nods, then turns her head away. 

Kylo sighs. “Don’t be angry with me.”

Rey keeps her gaze on the far side of the restaurant, lips pressed tightly together. Why does he think it’s okay to buy her these things when he’s just going to leave her in the end? Maybe it’s not a joke, but...it’s so excessive it might as well be. 

“Rey…” he coaxes, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “Please don’t be angry.” He kisses the corner of her mouth. “Please.” He kisses the other corner. “Please.” And then her lips.

She relents, unable to stay angry with him when he’s obviously so remorseful, her arms winding around his midsection. She leans her head on his chest, hugging him close. “I’ll be mad at you later.”

“As long as we’re in bed later, then yes, okay.” 

Rey gasps, pretending to be scandalized, and he laughs, nuzzling the top of her head. 

They’re quiet for a minute, letting the sounds of the restaurant wash over them. But a question bubbles to the surface of Rey’s mind, one she can’t quite vanquish.

“Kylo.”

He rumbles an acknowledgment.

“You—want to—keep seeing me, right?”

“Of course,” he murmurs into her hair. “You couldn’t keep me away if you tried.” He’s mostly teasing, at least she thinks so, yet there’s an undercurrent to his words, as if he’s warning her, _Don’t even try it._

Maybe he’s lying, or maybe he’s telling his version of the truth. Does it really matter? 

And with that, Rey comes to a decision. She disentangles herself from him, making sure to secure the ring on her finger. She climbs over Kylo, temporarily straddling his lap. His erection presses directly against her core. 

“Wait a minute, then follow me.”

He opens his mouth, but before he can so much as say her name, she’s out of the booth and disappearing down a hallway. It doesn’t take long to locate the one single-use bathroom near the exit.

Quickly, knowing a minute isn’t nearly enough time and doubting Kylo will wait that long anyway, Rey examines herself in the mirror. Sundress, check. Hairstyle—immaculate, so check. No bits of food between her teeth (or in her eyebrows for that matter). She lifts the hem of her dress, slides her panties down her legs, then tosses them into the trash-can. Kylo can pay her back later. 

There’s a knock at the door.

_You can do this. Show him you’re worth it._ Rey gathers a deep, steadying breath in her lungs to steel herself, then lets it out in a rush. Before she loses her nerve, she cracks open the door and peers out. Kylo’s standing there, one eyebrow raised.

With a quick glance around to make sure no one else is nearby, Rey grabs him by the hand and yanks him inside. She shuts the door, turns the lock, and leans her back against it, breathing heavily like she’s run a race. 

“What—“

“Fuck me,” she blurts, grasping at the front of his jeans. She needs to get this part over with before she loses her nerve. 

Kylo’s eyebrows shoot nearly to his hairline. 

“I need you to fuck me _right now_ ,” she says, and it sounds perilously close to begging. Which isn’t out of character for her, but it still makes her uncomfortable. 

“But...you’re sore,” he says, even as his hands unsnap the top button of his jeans, even as he crowds her up against the door, even as his eyes darken dangerously.

“I don’t care,” she whispers, tugging at his shirt. “Just—fuck me. _Please_.” 

Kylo doesn’t hesitate: he shoves his jeans and briefs down to his knees, grabs her by the hips, lifts her up, and impales her forcefully on his cock. 

She screams, the sound partially muffled as his mouth descends on hers, crushing the air from her lungs. She convulses against the door as he pounds into her, his strokes rough and uneven. Gasping, she moves her body in tandem with his thrusts, trying to keep her grip on him. She can’t see his face—it’s pressed into her neck—but the _sounds_ he’s making…

Rey moans and writhes against him. The bathroom door rattles in its frame as his pistoning hips set a relentless pace. She’s gasping so loudly it’s nearly one long scream, and her eyes squeeze tightly shut against his thrusts. The rocking motion brings her close to the edge, and it’s all she can do to keep herself together. 

_Oh god, oh god._ Her fingers dig into the skin of his shoulders, sinking in like claws, and in the back of her mind she’s aware this may be hurting him, this may in fact be drawing blood, but the wilder part of her asks why she cares. He grabbed her throat; she can scrape away at his skin. 

Rey grits her teeth against a moan, unable to stifle it completely, and Kylo groans into her neck, his pace becoming erratic as their mutual climax builds. His grip on her waist is so tight she already knows there’ll be countless more bruises blooming on the skin before day’s end, and the delicious slide of his cock drives all other thoughts from her head. 

“Please,” she gasps, “ _please,_ Kylo, cum in me, _please_.” 

She hears him panting over the wet sounds of their bodies joining together, and before she can so much as inhale another desperate breath, Kylo’s climax rips through them both, his hips brutally banging her into the solid metal door. Her own climax quickly follows, and for several long seconds everything is a brilliant white. 

When she comes back to herself, the first thing she notices is the gentle glide of Kylo’s cock as he lazily sways his hips forward and back, forward and back. There’s an almost embarrassing amount of stickiness between her thighs, and she can feel it dripping down the length of his shaft where they’re still joined. He’s murmuring something incoherent into the hollow of her throat, and his hands have strayed up her back, pulling the sundress nearly over her breasts. Rey drapes her arms over his shoulders and lays her head down too, needing to just rest for a second. She’s so exhausted, as if she’s been awake for days instead of mere hours.

Kylo’s head dips between her breasts to lap up the sweat that’s collected there. He hums in the back of his throat and slowly shifts so that her feet find the floor. He holds her up while Rey’s senses gradually return, his cock still buried between her legs. 

“We should...go,” he says, catching his breath. “We’ve been in here...too long.”

“Yes,” she agrees breathlessly, straightening her dress. It falls down to her thighs, the hem brushing the top of his shaft.

But Kylo makes no move to pull out, and Rey nearly weeps at the thought of their separation—physical and otherwise. She hasn’t really realized until now just how desperately she needs him. How every part of her craves him when they’re away from each other. How the taste of his skin and the sound of his voice fills up all her hollow spaces. 

Maybe she’s wanted more out of this than she thought. _Stupid girl. Nice of you to realize this now._

“Let’s go,” he says roughly, eyes on her face.

Rey places a hand on his chest, wondering what kind of game he’s playing now. He’s still very much inside her, and she can’t move until he lets go.

He gestures grandly at the door, as if to say, _Ladies first._

“Kylo,” she huffs, on the verge of laughter. “Maybe, um...” 

He licks his lips and leans so close their lips brush. “If you insist.”

With a long, torturous movement, Kylo withdraws his cock, sliding it back inch by inch until it dips between his legs. Despite herself, Rey glances down and sees her cum slicking his dick, and she instinctively clenches her thighs together. The motion makes her all too aware of the stickiness between her own legs.

“Kylo,” she whimpers, feeling herself heat up again. She doesn’t want him to know how pathetically desperate for him she is, but he makes her lose all common sense. 

“No, no,” he murmurs, drawing a line down her cheek with his finger. “Such a greedy girl.”

“We have time,” she whispers, begging him with her eyes even as she curses herself for her neediness. 

But he shakes his head and yanks up his jeans. “Not enough.”

Begrudgingly, Rey adjusts her hair and smooths down the front of her dress. She knows her face is flushed, but there’s not much she can do about that now. 

“Ready?”

Kylo’s gaze roves over her body for a long moment before he grins and leans forward to bite her bottom lip. “Time to go home, baby.”

Hand-in-hand, they exit the bathroom, and Rey can’t help the surge of relief that flows through her when she sees the hallway is still empty. They were definitely loud, but at least no one had front row seats. And although she keeps telling herself that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, there’s nothing to hide, it’s still nice to know nobody heard her begging Kylo to make her cum. 

Kylo pulls her quickly to their table, where he drops several large bills, and then retakes her hand. On their way through the restaurant, Rey feels many eyes on them both. She knows it’s unlikely they know just what went down in the bathroom, but based on her flushed face, their mutual reappearance, and Kylo’s messy hair, they must have some idea. 

She likes the attention more than she thought she would. At least they’re looking _at_ her instead of _through_ her. 

A middle-aged man’s eyes rove up and down Rey’s legs, and Kylo’s grip on her hand becomes crushing. He yanks her out of the building and to the passenger side of his Mustang. 

Backing her up against the door, he places both hands on either side of her head, grinding his hips into hers unashamedly. Rey sees a couple of teenagers watching them out of the corner of her eye.

“You see that man?”

Rey doesn’t have to ask who. She nods.

“I catch any man looking at you like that again, I’ll kill him.” Kylo kisses her roughly on the mouth, then nips his way over her jaw. 

“Why does _he_ get to live, then?” she murmurs, fingers curling into the material of his shirt.

“I wanted to warn you first before I did anything rash,” he says in a low voice, nibbling on her earlobe. “Next guy won’t be so lucky.”

Rey swallows. “Noted.”

After an additional minute where Kylo takes full advantage of her lips, he pulls away, slaps her lightly on the ass, and opens the passenger door. She slinks into the seat, staring wide-eyed out the windshield. Her cheeks are flushed, and she knows her hair’s messy again. Against her will, her gaze is pulled to the side, where she sees the group of teenagers nudging each other with smirks on their faces. She quickly looks away.

“Buckled in?” Kylo slides the keys into the ignition and revs the engine a little, which earns him a frown from a well-dressed family entering the restaurant.

Rey nods, still blushing, and Kylo places a hand on her knee. They ride in silence, his thumb caressing her skin. The motion’s soothing, which strikes Rey as unexpected. If there’s one thing Kylo isn’t, it’s reassuring.

He pulls the Mustang into the driveway and turns off the engine, but instead of striding around to open her door, he sits back in his seat and stares out the windshield. Rey fidgets nervously in her seat, running an absentminded finger across her new ring. It’s so beautiful, she’s having a difficult time reconciling that she’s the owner. 

“You’d tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable, right?”

Surprised, Rey turns to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He shifts in his seat and takes his hand off her knee. “I saw the way those kids were looking at you. If you don’t want me to do something, you have to let me know.”

“I will,” she promises, although maybe that’s not the whole truth. Sometimes she thinks his actions are questionable, sure, but he usually proves her wrong. It’s not really her place to decide what he wants to do with her, is it? She can say no, of course, but most of the time she doesn’t _want_ to, even if she’s initially reluctant. 

Rey reaches across the center console and grabs his hand. “Don’t worry.”

He smiles faintly, eyes drinking in every inch of her face. “It’s kind of hard when you’re around.”

Her confidence falters a little. What does that mean? Why did he keep saying those things? Like she means something. It’s disorienting. 

Kylo seems to read her confusion because he grips her chin and smiles lazily. “You’re safe with me, baby. Nothing’s gonna happen to you as long as I’m around.”

She bites her bottom lip and nods. _As long as I’m around._ Pretty ambiguous statement. That could be tomorrow. Later today, even. 

He stares at her for another long moment, his eyes smooth and opaque so she can’t tell what he’s thinking. His thumb pokes at her mouth, and he scrapes a nail along her bottom lip. Leaning forward, he drags his tongue across her lips, then bites down hard. She jumps in her seat, which makes him laugh.

“Let’s go inside,” he says huskily, and releases her chin.

Rey scrambles out of the car, legs shaking. This time around she’s not entirely careful about her appearance for the sake of the neighbors. She’s been going in and out of his house the past week, which is pretty telling. So what if everyone knows they’ve been fucking? Like she told Poe, it’s none of their business.

She fixes the wrinkled hem of her dress and reaches for Kylo’s hand, which he’s already extending to her over the hood of the car. Hand-in-hand, they enter the foyer, kicking off their shoes. He tugs her into the living room, pausing for a moment to reset the alarms on the doors and windows. 

Maybe it doesn’t seem like it, but Kylo’s actually really smart and really serious about security. Uncle Luke occasionally mentions how successful Kylo is in his line of work. Like all the houses in this neighborhood, his place is massive and architecturally gorgeous. Floor-to-ceiling windows, dark wood flooring, sleek furniture, silver and chrome fixtures, even two spiral staircases. 

Rey’s never really cared about the house she lives in with Uncle Luke because it’s never felt like hers, so she can’t claim any of it. She knows their arrangement is only temporary, anyway. Once she turns eighteen she’ll be expected to find a place of her own. Even though Uncle Luke adopted her of his own free will and generosity, they’ve never been especially close. Which is fine with her. She’s never had a family of her own; why start with him?

Kylo tugs her into his arms and lifts her by the waist. Her legs wrap around him automatically, her hands gripping the back of his neck as he falls back on the sofa. Even though there are plenty of nice armchairs, Kylo’s lap is her favorite seat in the house. Not only is it cozy, there’s usually a nice surprise waiting for her. Sure enough, the front of his jeans is already visibly tented, and Rey can’t help the surge of pleasure that warms her chest. 

They spend the next twenty minutes kissing. Just kissing. His hands knead her ass through the silky film of her dress, and she arches her neck to get a better angle on his mouth. Their tongues clash, not frantically, but like a slow, leisurely battle that they both know will end in their favor. She licks his lips and the inside of his mouth, body straining against his, like she might dissolve into him if only she tries hard enough. He kisses her back with equal fervor, his lips bruising with their intensity. 

“ _Fuck_ , I love this,” Kylo growls into her mouth. 

Rey wriggles happily in his lap. “I can tell.”

“You’re so goddamn _tiny_. And this dress is…” He trails off, eyes hot, and mouths at her throat. 

She licks her lips and runs her fingers gently through his hair as he sucks. His big hands hike up the hem of her dress and slide along her bare waist, thumbs rubbing circles on the dips of her hips. Rey moans breathily, and Kylo tears himself away. 

“Say my name,” he demands, pushing his tented cock against her core. 

“Kylo,” she breathes, rolling her hips. His fingers dig into her skin.

“Louder.” 

“Kylo!” Rey grinds herself into his lap, breasts heaving. God, she wants him. She wants him like she’s never wanted anyone in her life. Which is so fucking unfair. 

He stands abruptly, and Rey struggles to keep her legs wrapped around him. The sudden shift of gravity sets her off-balance, and she stares into his eyes, lips parted. 

“Upstairs,” he explains gruffly, climbing the staircase. He doesn’t pause at the top; he’s not even out of breath. Swerving into the master bedroom, he kicks the door closed and climbs atop the mattress, rotating until he’s on his back and she’s sitting astride him. 

Rey tilts her head curiously, running her hands up and down his chest. “What are we doing?”

“ _You_ ,” he says, shifting up the mattress, “are going to do exactly what I tell you. Understand?”

She nods quickly, pulse thrumming. “Yes, okay.” 

“Now.” Kylo grabs her wrists. “Take off your dress.”

He releases her, watching with dark, burning eyes. Rey crosses her arms, grabs the hem of her dress, and lifts it up and over her head. She tosses it off to the side, keeping her focus on Kylo. With a few quick snaps, her bra follows. 

Obviously pleased by her obedience, he strokes her bare hips with his big, calloused hands. “I want you to put your hands on the headboard.”

Rey’s eyes flicker up nervously, but she does what he says. Curling her fingers around the steel bed frame, she gasps but manages to hold herself still as he slides beneath her until his mouth is even with her cunt. Her thighs quiver.

“Look at this,” he purrs, fingers kneading her thighs. “Such a pretty pussy, all wet and shiny for me.”

A whimper catches at the back of her throat.

“I’m going to taste you,” he warns, voice low. “And you’re going to keep your hands right where they are, Rey.”

“Yes,” she breathes, stomach muscles tightening with anticipation. 

Without another word, Kylo pulls her down so she’s sitting on his face. His tongue traces along her slit, and her hips buck, eyes flaring wide open. 

“Ah!” Babbled exclamations burst from her lips as he rolls his tongue inside her folds. She’s already soaked, and each second that passes drives her closer to the edge.

_Oh god, oh my god,_ she thinks, pleasure sharp and aching between her legs. Instinctively, she clenches her thighs together when Kylo sucks needily on her clit, and he makes a muffled sound that alarms her. 

Lifting herself off his face, she gasps, “S—sorry, sorry! I’m—“

With a grunt, Kylo yanks her down and dives back in, tongue flickering along her inner thighs, lapping up the extra stickiness. She whines in the back of her throat and rolls her hips again. 

“Please,” she begs, “Kylo, _please_ just—“

Her fingers curl around the steel headboard, her mindless rocking setting the bed in motion. Hinges creak, and the frame taps gently against the wall. 

He groans, licking and sucking deep enough that her arousal coats his chin, and the deep vibration between her thighs sets Rey off. She makes a high, keening noise as an explosive orgasm rips through her, numbing the tips of her fingers and setting her body on fire. 

She jerks and convulses on top of him, clinging desperately to the headboard. Kylo holds her tightly and continues to lap up the cum leaking from her pussy. She rolls her hips as the sensations fade, eyes fluttering. 

Tired now, she slumps, and Kylo pulls her down so she sprawls across his chest. They’re both breathing heavily. 

“So yummy,” he murmurs into her hair, dragging light fingers across her spine. “I could lick you all day long.” 

She hums back, too exhausted to speak. He’s so warm, body broad and hard, and for a few lost minutes Rey feels completely safe and at ease. 

“Such a good girl,” he coos, folding his arms across her back. “My favorite girl.”

Rey smiles sleepily and nudges her head under his chin. He adjusts them so she can press her face to his neck. 

“When exactly do you turn eighteen?” he asks suddenly. 

She licks her lips, mouth dry. “Um, in a month.” A long pause. “Why?”

“No reason.” Kylo smooths his rough palms over her skin, rubbing, soothing. 

She fades away for a few minutes, lulled by his attentions. If she could stay in this one moment forever, his hands on her body and his heart under her cheek, she might consider it heaven. 

“How does your tummy feel?”

Rey frowns and opens one eye. “What?”

“Your tummy,” he says, fingers dipping between the curves of her ass. “Does it feel tight at all?” Then he changes direction. “What about the rest of your body? Any aches and pains? Nausea?”

“No,” she says sleepily, “none of that. Flu season’s over, you know.” 

He’s quiet for a minute. Finally, he shifts up the mattress until he’s leaning against the headboard. She reluctantly peels herself off his chest, still straddling his lap. Her thighs are sticky, and some of her cum wipes off against his jeans. 

“No condoms,” he says suddenly, body tensing.

Rey tilts her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You’re okay with me not wearing a condom.” Kylo stares down at her, fingers tightening on her hips. The pressure is painful, and she squirms. “ _Right?_ ” 

His voice is dangerously soft. Rey nods distractedly, not really caring either way. She knows boys really like it raw for some reason. Better friction, maybe. Whatever. If he tries to get her pregnant, she’ll just have to remember to take one of those morning-after pills whenever they sleep together. No big deal. 

“And none of that implant, Nuva-Ring shit either,” he adds. He grabs her chin and jerks her face close to his. “You’re not allowed to touch any of that. Got it?”

“Uh-huh,” she says, swaying forward. He allows her to kiss him for a few seconds before forcing them apart.

“I’m serious, Rey.” Kylo looks it too. “If I catch you taking any form of birth control, you’re gonna be in so much fucking trouble.” 

“Oh, really?” she says coyly, tugging on the collar of his shirt. She feels drunk. “What will you do to me?”

Kylo shoves her off his lap and climbs on top, straddling her waist. One big hand clamps painfully tight around her throat. His eyes are black again. Scary. 

“I’ll fuck you until you scream.” He moves his hips, grinding against her cunt. “And then I’ll fuck you again. And again.”

Her heart lodges somewhere in her throat. The look on his face frightens her. She’s only seen him like this once before, when she tried to leave to take a shower at home and he lost it because she didn’t ask permission first. 

Leaning close enough so their lips touch, Kylo purrs, “And I will keep fucking you until you beg me to stop. Then, and only then, will I consider it.” 

Rey stares up at him, frightened and aroused all at once. 

A slow smile curves his lips, and he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. “But only if you behave.” 

“No birth control,” she whispers. Again, she doesn’t really care, but why does _he_ seem to? 

“That’s right, baby,” he agrees, fingers digging into the sides of her neck. “No birth control.”

Maybe he _wants_ to get her pregnant. Rey can’t imagine why. She’s too young; she’d make a terrible mother. It’s not like she’s had any role models to imitate. Kids are definitely a life goal, but for the _future_. Not at seventeen. 

She swallows and looks anywhere but at him. Kylo is so confusing. One second he’s acting weird and distant, and the next he’s giving her rings and banning birth control. She doesn’t understand what he wants from her. 

_Maybe you should just ask._ The voice makes a sound argument, but that means Rey will get a final answer to all her many questions, and what if it’s not the one she wants to hear? Is the uncertainty really worth all this beating around the bush? 

She looks at him and knows the answer.

Kylo nudges her until she’s tucked into his chest, arms wrapped around her waist and lower back. She examines the shiny new ring on her finger and realizes she never asked him what it’s supposed to remind her of. Them, but—what _about_ them? 

She shifts, annoyed with herself for overthinking, and Kylo’s arms tighten abruptly, like he expects her to flee. 

“Keep you close,” he mumbles, clumsily kissing her forehead. “Stay with me.” 

Rey smiles a little. He’s already half-asleep. Last night really took the energy out of them both. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promises, curling into his chest. Even if she has a sneaking suspicion how this will end. Even if it’s in her best interest to leave before any real damage is done. 

“Stay with me,” he repeats into her hair. “Can’t take you away.”

She has to admit, this possessiveness is kind of a turn-on. But then she realizes—he’s probably not even aware he’s saying this stuff. Rey relaxes against him, emotions churning.

“Not this time,” he murmurs, clinging to the covers wrapped around them. “Not gonna keep me from you.”

Rey’s suddenly wide awake. His sleep-talk is mostly nonsense, she suspects, but—

_This time?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **idfk anything about text message formatting don't @ me!!!**
> 
> **title: pushing me away**


	4. pts.OF.Athrty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **kylo's chaotic what can i say**

The next morning brings an unfortunate surprise. Uncle Luke is returning several hours earlier than planned. 

They have just enough time to pack up all Rey’s scattered belongings and race to her house. Flinging her bags down at the foot of the bed, Rey slumps and rubs her temples. She hears an engine in the driveway not long after, but before she can peek out the window, Kylo grabs her around the waist. 

“You think we have enough time?” he asks, kissing her neck. 

Rey squirms, trying to pry his arms off. Is that really all he’s thinking about? “Kylo, no, we definitely don’t—“

But he apparently has other ideas and pushes her down on the mattress before she can finish protesting. She crawls to the other side, eager to escape before he does something he’ll regret, but she only makes it a foot before he grabs her ankle and yanks her towards him. 

“Stop!” she hisses as he climbs on top of her, pinning her face-down on the bed. “Uncle Luke’s already here! We—“

His jeans are shoved past his thighs, and Kylo covers her mouth as he lines himself up. Downstairs, the front door opens, keys clatter on the kitchen counter, and Rey whimpers as he fucks her lazily from behind, their hips slapping together as they bounce on the mattress. 

“Rey!” Uncle Luke’s voice drifts up the staircase. “I’m back!”

She groans, panicked, and Kylo’s fingers dig into her cheek as he pants on her neck. His body is so heavy; he’s not trying to support his weight, and she’s having a difficult time breathing. 

“Be _quiet_ , baby. I need you.” His cock slides in and out of her pussy easily, meeting no resistance. She’s disgustingly wet despite the circumstances. Her thighs clamp together, creating more friction that sets her eyes rolling. 

“Rey?” Footsteps on the stairs. 

“Answer him,” Kylo orders, peeling his fingers away. 

“I’m here!” she calls back, voice shaky with the force of his thrusts. The mattress shudders in its frame. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yes!” Rey shouts, hoping he doesn't notice her breathlessness. “All— _ah!_ —all good!”

Kylo grunts, stroking down fast and deep. Hands braced on either side of her head, he bangs her into the mattress, cursing every time she shifts. Rey tries to squirm away, but he grabs the back of her neck and forces her down. 

“Stay _still_ ,” he growls, playfully biting her shoulder. 

“Okay, then. I’ll be downstairs.” Uncle Luke retreats down the staircase, loafers tapping across the kitchen tiles. The fridge door opens a second later. 

Kylo continues to bite her neck as he climaxes, rolling his hips to push his cum as deep as he can. Rey writhes under him, heart thundering in her chest as he moans low in his throat. The sound is unbearably hot, and she finally goes still as he empties himself. She’s stuffed full of him, and her legs are shaking, but it doesn’t feel so bad. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, breathless now too. “Take it all, baby, take my big cock.” He kisses her shoulder where his bite mark is still visible. “I know you love it.” 

Rey whimpers, caught between pleasure and a creeping suspicion that Kylo only wanted to fuck her like this out of some weird sense of ownership. Like, who has sex with their guardian right outside the door? She isn’t that girl. He’d seemed relatively calm until Luke pulled into the driveway. 

As his hips slow, she remains still on the mattress, afraid to turn around and see his expression. Is he punishing her for something? She hasn’t forgotten the way his big hand wrapped completely around her throat. How he squeezed and growled at her, as if she were nothing more than a disobedient dog. 

_Ownership._ The word rings uncomfortably in her head. 

Kylo’s cock slides out, dripping cum all over her white sheets, and she hears him stagger across to her bureau where there’s a box of tissues he uses to clean himself up. The sound of a zipper, then silence. Rey doesn’t know what this weird, dense pressure is on her chest, but she doesn’t like it. Her emotions are all over the place. He didn’t even wait for her to cum, either. 

“Time to get up,” he murmurs, grasping her hips. She allows him to manhandle her to her feet and stands stiffly as he adjusts her skirt, smoothing down the hem until it covers her sticky thighs.

Rey licks her dry lips as he turns her around to face him. His cheeks are faintly flushed, eyes bright and excited. His broad shoulders block out the sunlight spilling from the windows. 

Gripping her chin, he smiles and says, “There we go. Baby’s ready for the day.” Then he studies the expression on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Why didn’t you stop?” she blurts, taking a step back. 

He releases his grip on her chin reluctantly, eyebrows raised. “What do you mean? You didn’t tell me to stop.”

Hadn’t she? Rey fumbles for an answer, fingers twitching nervously at her sides. She twists her new ring. “Well, I—”

“Shush.” With a soft, patronizing look, Kylo unlocks her bedroom door and steps into the hallway. “Let’s go.”

She stares at his outstretched hand, her mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions that careen off each other. He’s not mad? Usually he gets annoyed if she questions him about sex. Or anything, really. 

“Where are we going?” she asks stupidly. 

He tilts his head and crooks a finger. “We’re going to talk to Luke. Come _here_.”

She frowns but walks over and grasps his hand in hers. He’s warm, and his fingers tighten around her own like he suspects she’ll try to escape. 

“He can’t know you were in my bedroom.”

He shrugs, unconcerned. “That won’t matter for much longer, baby.”

Rey has no idea what he’s talking about; it’s like he’s speaking German. But she leans forward when he presses a kiss to her forehead, and she doesn’t argue when he leads them down to the kitchen. Uncle Luke is by the stove, pouring hot water into a ceramic mug. A thin white string dangles near the handle; Rey knows there’s a Lipton teabag at the bottom. His favorite substitute for coffee.

“Did you have a nice time while—” Uncle Luke glances at them and immediately freezes. His eyes dart from their clasped hands to Rey’s skirt and then finally to Kylo’s face. Her uncle has never been particularly perceptive, especially when it comes to teenage girl stuff, but she can see the moment it clicks into place. 

“Hi,” she whispers, cowering behind Kylo. She’s uncomfortable wearing such a revealing outfit in front of him, especially with her boyfriend’s cum still leaking out and hickies on her neck. 

“Rey.” With precise, controlled movements, Uncle Luke sets down the piece of mail he was in the middle of examining. His spoon clinks as he pushes the mug of tea back from the edge of the counter. “What’s going on?”

_Don’t ask questions you already have the answers to_ , she thinks, suddenly furious. _You know._

The three of them are silent for a long, endless minute. Rey shifts, clutching Kylo’s hand as hard as she can. 

“Rey’s going to live with me from now on,” he declares, sounding bored and unimpressed by the situation. 

“Is she?” Luke, meanwhile, has a hard look in his eyes she’s never seen before. She’s all too familiar with his indifference, with his vague curiosity and infrequent concern, and she’s never once seen him genuinely happy or mad or sad. It’s like he was born with only two or three settings.

Kylo nods and tugs gently on her hand. She steps up next to him, trembling. Confrontation scares her; even though Luke has never seemed to care before, he’s certainly looking interested now.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.” Luke sips from his mug, placing his back against the counter so he’s facing them head-on.

“Mm.” Kylo tilts his head but doesn’t elaborate. Rey glances between them nervously. There’s something going on here, an undercurrent she can’t quite read. 

Luke sighs. His eyes flicker briefly to Rey. “Ah. I see. Let’s cut the bullshit, then. I told you to stay away from her, did I not?”

“You did,” Kylo agrees with a subtle head tilt. “And I told _you_ that would only work for a short time.”

“She’s not eighteen yet.” Luke’s nostrils flare briefly, though he remains calm. “At the very least—“

“Rey’s birthday is in less than a month,” Kylo interrupts smoothly. “You’re willing to create a problem over a measly thirty days?”

Luke just shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’ve been over and _over_ this, Kylo. I don’t know what to say that I haven’t said already.”

Kylo suddenly steps behind her, releasing her hand. She’s trying to follow the conversation, but she knows that she’s missing some pieces. He drapes himself over her, hands flat on her stomach, and kisses the top of her head. Rey settles, but her mind is still frantically trying to connect the dots. It sounds like he and Luke have had quite a few past discussions, but as far as she knows they’ve kept their interactions to a minimum for as long as she’s lived there. 

Luke continues, agitated by Kylo’s silence. “I was willing to let it go on, up to a _point_.” He adds a telling emphasis to this last word. “We’ve reached that point.”

“What do you mean?” Rey blurts, uncomfortably aware of Kylo’s hands on her body. He’s pressing on her from behind, and through the seat of his pants she feels his erection, insistent and hard. God, he’s _insatiable_. 

“Let’s just say it was inevitable you two would become...friends,” Luke says carefully, his voice soft now as he addresses her. “We live right next door, after all. A certain amount of closeness due to proximity is expected.” 

Luke falls silent, and Rey’s almost more confused than before. He’s not telling her anything she doesn’t already know. Over the years, she and Kylo have hung out on their front and back porches dozens of times, eating popsicles or just chatting. Normal, neighborly things. 

“I told you from the beginning I wouldn't stay away. I was very clear about that. We agreed she would—” 

“We _never_ agreed to an arrangement, formally or otherwise,” he snaps, straightening. Her uncle is only an average height and build, but with the look on his face now he’s absolutely terrifying. He looks murderous. Rey cowers into Kylo’s arms, and he murmurs reassurance. 

“ _You_ know it,” Luke continues furiously, “and _I_ know it. All the paperwork is in _my_ name. There’s nothing legally binding her to you.” The insinuation is clear—the only person she’s legally bound to is Luke. Adoption paperwork, she realizes with a rush. They’re talking about her adoption. 

But that was eight years ago. Old news.

“Rey,” Kylo says finally, keeping his voice low. He’s speaking directly into her ear, but his eyes remain fixed on Luke. “Go upstairs and pack.”

Her uncle surges forward, and Rey’s breath catches in her throat. Kylo abruptly shoves her to the side, out of the line of fire. She stumbles into the kitchen counter and winces when her hip bone meets the edge. 

“ _No_ ,” Luke says harshly, shoving a finger in her boyfriend’s face. “She’s not going anywhere. Her home is here.”

A small spark of annoyance flares in Rey’s chest. They’ve had a very platonic, almost indifferent relationship with one another over the years. Always have. Even at nine years old, when Luke adopted her from an inner-city orphanage on the verge of collapse, he treated her as a well-liked but distant friend, never as a beloved child. They ate their meals in relative silence, sporadically interrupting the quiet to update each other on their individual activities for the day or week. Math test on Friday. Work conference Wednesday afternoon. After-school counseling starting next week. No more paper bags allowed for lunch; reusable packs only. And so on.

Luke’s home has never truly _felt_ like a home. A house, yes, but never a home. It’s always been temporary. Rey’s been living under the impression that she’s just visiting on her way to a bigger and better life, preferably at a nice four-year university in a pretty liberal arts town up north. Why he’s suddenly decided she can’t leave is a mystery. An infuriating one. In less than a year she’ll be moving to a dorm on some campus anyway; what difference does a few months really make? 

Rey drums her fingers on the kitchen counter, deciding—for now—to stay quiet.

Although Luke’s finger is still in his face, Kylo appears unperturbed. Even bored. “Didn’t you once tell me that she’s capable of making her own decisions?”

Luke huffs but lowers his hand. Rey’s eyes sweep up and down both men. Her uncle is several inches shorter than Kylo; he almost has to tilt his head back to meet her boyfriend’s eyes. Kylo isn’t outrageously muscled, but he’s hard and thick in the biceps; he obviously keeps in shape. Luke, by comparison, is growing a bit pudgy around the midsection and struggles to see without the aid of prescription glasses. He’s _old_. For a second, Rey worries he’s going to get hurt. There’s no competition here. If it comes to any sort of fight, Kylo might seriously injure her uncle. 

“I did say that,” Luke admits heavily, with a bitter smile. “You know I was using that in my defense against you.”

“Of course I knew that,” he says mildly, examining Luke like he’s a particularly curious specimen. “But you're right. She's old enough to make her own decisions. Why don’t we ask her?”

Rey freezes on the spot. _No, no, no,_ she thinks, panicked. _Don’t make me choose. Don’t make me the villain._

Luke turns to look at her. Kylo doesn’t move his gaze from her uncle, like he’s expecting another attack. She bites her lower lip and wrings her hands. This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.

“Rey,” Luke says in a soft voice. Gentle, like he’s speaking to a frightened kitten. “You don’t have to make any decisions. This isn’t how—“

“Do you want to live with me?” Kylo interrupts, completely overriding Luke. “Or do you want to stay here?” 

Rey’s lips start to tremble. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone. No matter what happens here, she’s going to sever ties. 

“Answer the question, Rey.” Kylo still hasn’t looked at her. 

“I—” She knows what she wants, and Luke must see it too because his expression crumples. Despite her conflicted feelings towards him, Rey’s own eyes fill with tears. _I’m sorry,_ she thinks, _but you never really wanted me anyway._

Finally, when the silence stretches, Kylo turns to look at her. She blinks, and his scowl softens into something unbearably soft. She almost steps towards him, but he moves forward instead, as if drawn in despite himself.

It’s the wrong thing to do.

Luke shoves him back so hard Kylo trips and slams into the wall. Rey presses a fist to her mouth in shock. Holy shit. Her uncle’s never shown even a hint of violence before, not in tone or action. Kylo recovers immediately, and—when Luke advances on him—darts out a hand to catch his arm mid-swing. Luke’s surprised, but then Kylo has him pinned to the fridge in a second, hand tight around his throat. Not choking, but a definite threat.

“Kylo—“ she says, not sure what’s going to come out of her mouth but wanting this whole thing to _stop_. 

“Go pack a bag,” he repeats, not looking at her. Luke twitches, but Kylo is unmoved. 

“O-okay,” she stammers, and then takes an uncertain step out of the kitchen. She pauses. “Just—don’t hurt him.”

Her words seem to unsettle Kylo, who works his jaw like he’s chewing gum. Sensing she won’t get a direct response, Rey flees to her bedroom. 

She yanks an overnight bag out of her closet and proceeds to stuff it full of any clean clothes she can get her hands on: panties and bras and PJs and t-shirts and jackets and socks. The bag fills quickly, and she has to pause a moment to consider what else she’ll need. Toiletries. Right. 

In the bathroom she grabs her small bag of makeup and the bottles in the shower. Two small jars of lotion and a floral perfume. She briefly considers packing some tampons too, but then shakes her head—that’s too weird. Surely she can just run back over and take the box, maybe when Luke’s not home? No need to make it awkward and visit when he's around. She has a feeling she won’t be welcome in this house for a long time. If she does come back, she’ll have to sneak in. 

She’s always known she’ll abandon him, just...not like this. 

Back in her bedroom, Rey selects two pairs of shoes—her favorites, although they’re all important to her. She casts her attention to the kitchen; it’s quiet. Unnerving. She hopes they’re not beating the shit out of each other. Her stomach turns at the thought. No way can she make it out of the house if it’s splattered with blood. 

There’s a knock on her open door.

Rey whirls. Her uncle stands in the doorway, face white. 

“Are you okay?” she blurts, dropping a bottle of aspirin on the floor. His face looks fine, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been harmed elsewhere.

Luke nods jerkily. She’s never seen her uncle so disheveled. “Rey, I—“ He chokes and gestures absently. “Can I come in?”

“Oh,” she exclaims, fluttering her hands. “Um, yes.”

Luke sags on the edge of her bed and lowers his head. For a long minute there’s silence. Rey isn’t sure what to do or say. Should she just continue packing like everything’s fine? Everything’s not fine. Regardless of her intentions, Rey is abandoning him, and much earlier than planned. 

Finally, she whispers, “Where’s Kylo?”

He breathes in slowly before answering. “He’s outside. I thought it best he wait for you...elsewhere.”

She swallows, still not understanding. There are so many questions banging around in her head she feels sick with them. “Does that mean—“

He nods once, eyes on the floor. “I’m letting you go. It’s what you want, after all, and Kylo’s right—you’re eighteen soon. Why would I stop you?”

Rey tears skin from her bottom lip, nibbling until blood floods her mouth. Everything about this feels wrong, but it’s what she’s wanted, so…

She perches next to him on her bed. She’ll have to order a new comforter. This one's pink and white with little bow designs; too young for her now. 

“What did you mean, about my adoption papers?” she asks softly, running the pleats of her skirt through her fingers. 

“Look, Rey.” Luke finally meets her eyes. His are red-rimmed and hard. Like he’s come to a decision, albeit not one that benefits him. “There’s a lot you don’t know. When I adopted you…” He laughs bitterly. “Let’s say I had some help. None of it is your fault, either, so don’t go thinking that.”

Rey’s even more bewildered than before. “What’s not my fault? Can’t you just tell me?”

Luke groans. “I’m sure Kylo will, in time.” Then, as if to himself, “Maybe not.”

“Uncle Luke…” she whispers, and nearly reaches out a hand. But then she lets it fall back in her lap. They’ve never had that sort of relationship where random touching is a given. 

“I’ve done things I regret, Rey,” he says roughly. “I wish it hadn’t come to this. I wish...”

She fiddles with the hem of her skirt. “Why do you hate him so much?” 

“He’s...a very volatile person, Rey.” Luke’s picking his words carefully. She doesn’t like that. It seems like an intentional omission—selective truths. “He’s unhinged at times and perfectly fine at others. Maybe it’s just mood swings or—“ He cuts himself off and glances at her from the corner of his eye. “Although...I think his unpredictable behavior has more to do with you than anything.” 

Rey throws her hands up, exasperated. She surges to her feet. “What’s with the double-speak? Just spit it out!”

Luke’s mouth works for a moment as he struggles to find an explanation that’ll suit him. “Kylo’s quite soft on you, Rey. He’s...been that way for some time.” 

“How long?” she demands instantly. She needs _answers._

He smiles, but there’s nothing nice about it. In fact, she wishes he would put it away. “Long enough.”

Rey snorts and picks up her bag. It’s nearly too heavy for her to carry, but she’s furious, and the anger lends her extra strength. Luke stands from her bed too, and now his expression is one of flat resignation.

“Just know,” he warns, “if you go with him now, Rey, there’s no coming back.”

An invisible chord inside her snaps, even as a wave of hurt rolls through her chest. “Oh, so now you care? After all these years, all the times when I actually would have benefited from even a _crumb_ of comfort or at least a sign that you were aware I existed— _now_ you choose to extend an olive branch?” Rey turns her back on him and makes for the stairs. “Yeah, thanks anyway.”

She doesn’t want to leave on bad terms, but he’s making it impossible. First with the evasive answers, now with his faux attitude. Why do people _do_ that—one minute act like things are fine and dandy with someone even when they’re not, and then suddenly, when that person decides to move on, they decide to pull a total one-eighty and shout their support and dedication from the rooftops. Where was that care six months ago? Two years ago? Where was that care when it _mattered_? 

_There’s no coming back._ Fine. That’s as clear an indication as any that he doesn’t want to see her again. So be it. 

“Rey—“ Her uncle follows her down the stairs. Through the glass front door, she can see Kylo standing with his arms folded on the lawn. She imagines the neighbors are probably having a field day with their binoculars. 

“What,” she says flatly, hand on the doorknob. 

Even though he’s behind her, Rey can sense him shifting around uneasily. “Just know that you can...you _can_ come back anytime. If you want. I'm not the one who'll stop you. You’ve only just begun applying to college, and—“

She cuts him off with an abrupt hand gesture. The seven university applications she’s already filled out have done just fine without his intervention. “Is that all?”

His swallow is audible. “I—I may not visit, but don’t think it’s because I don’t want to see you. And when I say you can’t come back here, it’s not because I‘ll bar you from the house. Kylo is, ah—” Luke rubs his temples. 

“What does that _mean_?” she barks, swinging her bag off her shoulder. It hits the tiled floor with a muffled thud. She hopes none of her perfume bottles broke. 

Luke shuts his eyes and tilts his head back—she recognizes the look. He’s frustrated. Well, too bad.

“It’s...a difficult situation,” he says lamely. “Kylo isn’t—he’s—“ He clenches his jaw and breathes out harshly. “Let’s just say I’m not welcome over there.” 

With sudden clarity, Rey understands his awkward attempt at an explanation.

“Has Kylo threatened you?” 

Luke blanches, but it’s quick, fleeting. She can almost believe she imagined it. His face settles into a bland expression instead. “He—Kylo’s looking out for you, Rey.”

A lie by omission is still a lie.

But Rey doesn’t see that it’s a bad thing. If Kylo told her uncle to stay away from his house—well, that’s his right. Besides, it’ll be good for her to spend some time away from her uncle. 

She twists the doorknob anxiously. “Okay, well...I’ll see you later. I mean...yeah.” Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t. 

Luke nods wearily, and she swivels away before his expression can sear itself in her mind. She hurts too much already; she doesn’t need to add guilt to the pile too.

Rey closes the door softly behind her, and when she faces the street, Kylo’s already there, reaching for her bag. She hands it over gratefully and slumps a little as they leave Luke and his house behind. Forever, maybe. 

“Everything okay?” His eyes search her face, as if he can decipher every one of her secrets with a single glance. 

Rey nods and worries at her lip again. A quick scan of the neighborhood’s windows informs her that at least nobody’s being blatant with their spying. 

Kylo’s having no trouble holding her bag, and he gently pulls her to a stop on the sidewalk between their homes. He cups the back of her head and kisses her. “Looks like you’re stuck with me now.”

She offers a small smile. This strange mood she’s in now—she’s sure it’ll pass. All the confusion is just making it hard to think. 

_He’s a very volatile person._

“Let’s go home,” Kylo murmurs, and he links their hands, fingers tight and binding around her own.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rey’s in the middle of unpacking her clothes when Kylo barges into the bedroom for the tenth time and yanks her into his lap.

They fall into an armchair in the corner of their bedroom, and Rey giggles as he nuzzles her neck. She’s given up trying to be productive with her unpacking. Now it’s only a matter of time until he tosses her into bed and drags her under the covers. She’s quite looking forward to it. This is the longest they’ve gone in three days without sex. 

“Don’t you have _anything_ to do? Anything at all?” she demands teasingly, squeezing his wrists. His hands are locked around her midsection so she can’t turn around, which is irritating because she wants to _see_ him. 

He hums and slips a hand under her skirt to caress her thigh. “I’ve tried working and even cleaning—“ He shoots her a look that says this is a major divergence from his usual routine. “—but nothing’s worked. You’re too damn distracting.”

“I can sense you hovering in the doorway, you know,” she says drily. “You’re not as stealthy as you think you are.”

“Oh, really?” He hugs her close and kisses her neck, laughing when she squeals and tries to pry his arms off. But his hold, as always, is unbreakable. 

“Why do you think it's taken me two hours to unpack? And I’m still not done,” she complains. “If anything, _you_ are distracting _me_ , sir.” 

“We’re using titles now, are we?” he growls, cupping her sex. Even through her panties he can probably feel the dampness collecting at her core, so she wiggles in place, but this only encourages him to tighten his grip until she has to stop or risk hurting herself. “Okay, then, _Miss_ Rey. Tell me, what would you like for dinner?”

She peers over her shoulder, surprised. “You’re cooking?”

He pouts and presses his lips to her cheek so she can feel it. A laugh escapes her. He’s such a baby. “No need to sound so shocked. But for the record, no—I thought we’d order in.”

“Chinese?” she asks hopefully. Luke rarely dished out cash for delivery or takeout. Penny-pincher. 

Kylo scowls and nibbles on her earlobe as his fingers stroke lazily between her legs. “Mm. Too Americanized.”

She kicks her feet; they dangle more than a foot off the floor. “Oh my god. _You’re_ American!” He laughs, and she adds, “Don’t be so pretentious!”

“I like getting a rise out of you.” He slips one slim finger beneath the waistband of her panties and strokes her folds. “Oh, what have we here?”

Her breath catches. _Damn him._ Kylo knows the most efficient way to stop or prevent an argument is to make her so senseless she can’t form a single coherent thought. It’s embarrassing but, by this point, well-proven. 

Rey shuffles, slinging her legs to the side, and throws her arms around his neck, squirming to try and make him go faster. But he doesn’t listen, of course. He continues rubbing at the same leisurely pace, unmoved by her whimpers. 

“I hate you,” she whispers into his neck. 

He cups the back of her head and presses a kiss to her hair. “I love you too, baby.”

She grumbles but eventually relaxes in his lap. He’s big and warm, and she loves his kisses. They’re usually tender and soft, unless he’s inside her—then his kisses are much sloppier, less controlled. Not that she’s complaining. 

Rey teeters on the edge of orgasm, but Kylo withdraws his fingers and lightly slaps her ass. Her whole body clenches, desperately seeking stimulation, and when she shoves a hand down the front of her skirt, he clucks his tongue and yanks it back out. 

“Now, now,” he scolds, capturing her wrists in one hand, “none of that. You can touch yourself, but only when I say so.”

Annoyed, Rey pushes her forehead into his chest and pouts. She really doesn’t like when he teases her like this. Naturally, her irritation seems to delight him, and so he does it all the more often just to see her squirm.

Kylo runs a large palm down her back. “Baby.”

She clamps her lips shut and glares at his chest. Nope. Not gonna be accommodating today. 

“Your birthday’s in twenty-six days.”

This is not new information.

He sighs and kisses the top of her head again. She melts, but only a little. “What do you want?”

Her eyebrows furrow at the question. What does she _want_? Instead of asking for clarification, she nudges his chest. She knows her silence irks him; he doesn’t like when she’s unresponsive to him.

Rey yanks on her wrists, harder and harder, until he releases them. But then he cradles her face, forcing them eye-level. His are dark and unreadable; she suspects her own are bright and unhappy. 

“Rey.”

She shakes her head. No orgasm means no answer. 

Kylo growls, not so playfully this time, and bites her bottom lip. She tries to jerk back, but his hold on her face is too tight. “Tell me,” he demands, then, surprising her, softens. “Eighteen is a big deal.”

Pouting for real this time, Rey shrugs and shifts restlessly. “It doesn’t matter.”

He frowns. “Of course it does. One thing. Tell me one thing you want.”

Frustrated, she snaps, “I want a car.”

He doesn’t blink. “Okay, what kind?”

His calm throws her off. “But I can’t even drive yet.”

“What kind?” he repeats patiently.

Rey flounders for a second, then blurts the first car that comes to mind: “A Mustang.”

“Matching his and hers?” he says with a smirk. 

She smacks his shoulder and pushes on his wrists. He studies her face and slowly drops his hands. Freedom. She throws herself forward, but his arms snag her around the hips and prevent her from diving to the floor. Also possibly face-planting. Whatever.

“Kylo,” she whines, thrashing in his grip. She wants to get down now. He’s not playing fair. 

“Is that really what you want?” he breathes into her ear, and she shivers. 

“Obviously not,” she snips, growing increasingly pissed off. Why does he always hold her so _tight_? It’s confining, and not in a good way. “If I’m getting a car, I’m at least going to ask for a _nice_ one.”

“Oh, that was mean,” he murmurs, planting a hot kiss on her throat. “You don’t like my Mustang, baby?”

They both know she loves his Mustang, especially when he’s railing her in the backseat. “It’s loud,” she manages pathetically. 

“Mm.” He nibbles on her throat before adding, “How about a sporty little convertible. One with lots of...legroom.”

She flushes, catching the insinuation. “Aren’t they...like, a lot of money?”

He shrugs and holds her hips in place so he can continue to kiss up her throat. 

But now Rey’s interested. “If you spend more than fifty dollars, that’ll be the most expensive gift I’ve ever gotten.” 

This makes him pause, but only briefly. “Well. I’m going to spend quite a bit more than that.”

“How much more?” 

Kylo nuzzles the back of her head and inhales deeply. “Well, how much is a Mercedes-Benz? I’m thinking E Class.”

Her mouth opens soundlessly. She doesn’t understand what the E Class designation means, but anyone who’s anyone knows that the Mercedes brand is top-tier. What is he _thinking_? 

“No,” she says shortly. He must be teasing her. 

But he simply hums and places his chin on her shoulder. “It’s sleek and comfortable, but also one of the safest convertibles currently on the market.” His voice dips unexpectedly. “And more than anything, Rey, I want you to be safe.” 

“I know,” she whispers, tilting her head against his. “But...you don’t really mean it, right? You’ll just get me, like, a gift card to the mall or something?”

“I don’t _mean_ it?” He sounds not only incredulous but offended. “You think I’m lying?”

“No…” she says slowly—that’s exactly what she thinks, of course, but she’s not going to _say_ that. Her doubt must seep through, though, because he lets out a sharp huff.

“Christ,” he mutters, “just for that I’m going to buy the most expensive one on the lot.” 

“Kylo,” she says suddenly, frowning as a thought occurs to her. “Can I ask you something?” He grunts noncommittally, so before either of them can change their minds, she blurts, “What do you do? For work, I mean.”

“I’m a software architect,” he says, unphased by the random shift in topic. 

“Oh.” Rey has no idea what that means. “Can you—I mean, does it—“ She feels so awkward that she cuts herself off before she makes an even bigger fool of herself. 

“Ask me,” he murmurs, kissing the back of her neck. He leaves his lips there, and the walls she erected earlier to keep him distant begin to shake. 

“Do you make a lot of money?” Her voice is small. Luke always forbade her from talking about money at home. He said money is a very personal matter, and people shouldn’t go around asking how much something costs or how much someone gets paid. It’s rude. Even with Kylo’s permission she feels guilty. 

“Oh, is that all?” He chuckles and hugs her close. “Baby, you don’t need to worry. I can afford a car. Hell, I can afford ten new cars and not sweat it.”

Her eyes widen. _Ten_ convertibles? It doesn’t even sound like he’s bragging either, just stating a fact. Her head starts to pound. 

“You’re confusing,” she mumbles, running a hand through her hair. 

“How so?” Kylo adjusts her in his lap so she’s sitting sideways. An eyebrow arches. He’s not irritated, just curious. 

Rey lifts one shoulder. “It's just, you say you make all this money, but you live in this neighborhood. Not that it’s a bad place,” she adds quickly—these houses are actually really expensive, she knows because Luke complains about it all the time—“but they’re definitely not worth millions. And that’s… It sounds like you make that much.” 

Kylo watches her quietly, eyes assessing. 

She sighs. “I just don’t get it. Why aren’t you living in a mansion somewhere in Beverly Hills or something?” 

Abruptly, he swivels her around so they’re chest-to-chest and then bites her shoulder like a damn vampire. Then again and again, teeth sinking deep enough to break skin. It hurts, but there’s an uncurrent of pleasure too. Rey knows what he wants; she cries out his name, pressing her cheek to his, lips skimming his jaw. He relents, licking the wounds roughly enough to make her shiver. 

“I don’t want to live in a mansion.”

Rey struggles against him for a minute, but he keeps his head buried in her neck. His tongue sweeps across her skin in broad, lazy strokes. She loves feeling his saliva on her. 

“But...but _why_?” she asks, genuinely stumped. They live in an upper-middle class neighborhood for sure, but it’s nothing like what he’s talking about. Why wouldn’t you strive higher, if you had the means? Isn’t that what you _should_ do? 

Kylo finally pulls back to look at her, and his face says she should already know the answer. 

“You’re here,” he says simply. 

Rey opens her mouth, closes it, then says, “Oh” very softly. Is he saying the only reason he’s stuck around is because of _her_? That’s...well, not what she expected to hear.

Without thinking, she mutters, “Luke said—“ At the last second she realizes her mistake. Bringing up Luke around Kylo is like tossing a lighter on a trail of spilled gasoline. 

Sure enough, tension flickers across his face, and his mouth pulls into a tight line. “What did Luke say?”

“Uh, never mind,” she mumbles, trying to backtrack. _Stupid, stupid._ She twists her ting and avoids his eyes. 

“Rey.” His voice is hard. “Tell me what Luke said to you.”

“Nothing!” she cries, and switches tactics. “Are you going to give me an orgasm or aren’t you?” 

Kylo merely stares at her, so she pouts and kisses him on the lips. _Drop it_ , she silently implores him. _Forget I said anything._ She kisses him again when he doesn’t react, and then—out of sheer desperation—she licks his mouth and lunges out of his lap. His fingers catch the hem of her skirt, and she stumbles and goes down hard on the carpet. He’s on top of her a second later, rolling her onto her back so he can straddle her hips. 

“You trying to get away?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her throat. His big hands press down on her shoulders. “You think you can escape, baby? Let’s see you try.”

Rey isn’t trying to escape; she only wanted to distract him from thoughts of Luke, who seems to be his one weakness. Which is so _odd_. She wonders what happened between them, what kind of falling-out that occurred to cause such distaste on both ends. She’ll have to work on ferreting out the truth. 

With an innocent smile, Rey sneaks a hand between their bodies and cups him between the legs. Kylo’s face goes slack, his mouth opening in a comedic O, and his eyes take on a sort of glazed focus. 

_Ah_ , she thinks smugly. _There we go._

She pushes him over—he goes willingly—and clambers on top before he can recover, giggling at his starstruck look, and then they’re rolling across the carpet. She’s squirming for an advantage, he’s doing his best to pin her wrists down, and they’re both laughing, and then they’re both _kissing_ , and her arms find their way around his neck, and her legs drape over his hips, and he’s inhaling her like a drug, and her heart is so full it might burst, and she thinks things might really be okay, with Luke and her living situation and Kylo, but then—

Her phone chimes.

Kylo manages to pin one wrist to the floor, but she evades capture long enough to snatch her phone from where it’s fallen out of her skirt pocket. The screen is lit up with a new text. She frowns when she reads the unknown number, but then she opens iMessage, and her entire body goes ice cold. 

She stops struggling to stare at the screen.

TODAY 3:14 p.m.

**[UNKNOWN]**   
check these out

It’s Poe again. He’s sent her six different links, and she doesn’t even have to open them to know what they say. The URLs state it clear enough. 

** Victim of pedophiles describe his life as hellish **

** How American pedophiles hide from justice **

**6 warning signs you’re dating an emotional manipulator**

Tears instantly blur her vision. She sits up, gently pushing Kylo aside. He catches the look on her face and instantly, predictably, freaks out.

“What’s wrong? Baby—“ And here he takes hold of her chin so she’ll have to meet his eyes. “—what is it? Tell me.”

Her lips tremble, and the tears spill over, even as she insists, “It’s n-nothing. I swear, it’s—“

But Kylo has that look on his face, the one from earlier when Luke attacked him in the kitchen. He pries the phone from her hand and stares at the screen.

Rey begins to sob. This is bad. This is really bad. Maybe the texts were no big deal to begin with, but to Kylo they’ll be incendiary. Like lighting the fuse of a bomb. He’s never been tolerant of people judging their relationship, and that’s all Poe’s texts are—judgement. Calling Kylo a _pedophile_. That’s so fucked up. It’s not _like_ that. It’s not _like_ that. 

It takes a minute or so to realize she’s saying it out loud, through her tears. “—it’s not like that, it’s nothing, please, Kylo, give me my phone, it’s _nothing_ , he’s—”

But Kylo abruptly stands so the phone’s completely out of her reach, and she sees him start to scroll. With a hiccuping sob, she understands he’s reading their past conversation. Her stomach drops straight through the floor. 

Rey crawls to her knees and tugs on the leg of his jeans. She’s sobbing uncontrollably like a fucking child. _Get a grip!_ she tells herself, but the despair is so great that the words don’t have any effect. Why would Poe send her these links? What’s _wrong_ with him? 

“Kylo, I’ll delete the m-messages, it’s fine. Poe doesn’t know what he’s s-saying, I swear, he’s an idiot, I’ll—“ She breaks off when he slowly lowers his hand. His face is completely blank for several very long seconds. He’s looking right at her—or rather through her. 

Then he sinks to his knees and cradles her face. He looks stricken. “Oh, baby, no. I’m so fucking sorry. Christ.”

She collapses into him, and he cradles her in his lap, murmuring nonsense into her hair. She cries herself out, soaking his shirt, clutching at him like a drowning woman. It’s exhausting and humiliating and so fucking _horrible_. 

She can’t believe Poe would send her something like that. Something so...despicable. Now Kylo knows there are people out there—people she goes to _school_ with, people she’s _friendly_ with—who think she’s dating an emotionally manipulative pedophile. What if he’s told other people? What if he’s going around telling her classmates she’s sleeping with Kylo? 

Why can’t people ever mind their own fucking business? 

Rey wipes tears from her eyes and clumsily kisses his chin. “Kylo,” she rasps, and he looks down at her with eyes much too dark, “you know I don’t—I don’t _think_ that. We’re—you’re my boyfriend, I—“

He shushes her and kisses her temple. “I know, baby, I know. None of this is your fault.”

The words echo in her head: _None of this is your fault._ That’s exactly what Luke said hours earlier. But at some point, maybe it is. At some point, the blame has to land on her shoulders. Right? 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, wishing she’d deleted the messages—old _and_ new—immediately after getting them. None of this would be happening. Poe would’ve given up eventually. 

“Don’t apologize,” he says, kissing her softly. She leans into it, desperate to appease him. “Has Poe been bothering you very long?”

She shakes her head quickly, but he frowns. 

“Rey, I saw the messages from yesterday. He’s not going to leave this alone.” Then, quietly, “He’s not going to leave _you_ alone.” 

She sniffles and touches his cheek. “Kylo, it’s fine, I promise. He’s not bothering me. If we just ignore him, I’m sure…” But she trails off because he’s shaking his head. 

“I don’t think so,” he says sadly. 

Then he rises, cradling her in his arms, and crawls into bed. He slips off their shoes and tucks the covers over them both. It’s the middle of the afternoon, but all Rey wants to do is nap. The events of the day have been too emotionally taxing. She wants to forget for a little while. 

Kylo trails tender kisses over her face and down her neck. She sighs and snuggles into his chest. The arm he drapes over her waist is heavy and warm like a weighted blanket. In no time at all, she’s dozing. 

Sometime later, she’s roused from a deep sleep when Kylo whispers in her ear, “Can I see your phone, baby?”

She grunts and clumsily plugs in her passcode. He thanks her with a kiss, and then her head falls to his chest and she’s lost again.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rey wakes abruptly at twilight when the mattress shifts.

“Kylo?” she calls shakily, extending a hand in the gloom. She can’t sense him anywhere nearby. What if he left? What if decided she's too much work? What if--

But he's immediately by her side, stroking a hand over her hair. “Hey, beautiful. Did you sleep okay?”

Rey nods and blinks sleepily up at him. She can’t see his face in the darkness. She can’t see him at all.

“Listen,” he continues, crouching by the side of the bed, ”I’m going to stop and pick up food for us, okay? We never got around to that.”

“Where are you going?” she slurs, gripping his wrist. What she really wants to say is _Please stay. Please don’t leave me._

He kisses her knuckles, one by one. “To that Chinese restaurant you like. I’ll grab takeout.” 

A smile itches at the corners of her mouth. He remembers. “Mmkay.”

Kylo kisses her forehead, lingering for a long moment. “I promise I won’t be gone long. Go to sleep. I’ll be back before you know it, Rey.” 

She mumbles what she hopes is an affirmation of some kind and shifts on her side, snuggling under the blanket. Kylo’s hand continues to stroke her hair—soothing her to sleep.

Quietly, like part of a dream, his whisper floats through the room until it wraps around her like another blanket. “I love you.”

And Rey repeats it to herself like a prayer until she falls back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **title: points of authority**


	5. Enth E nd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **title: in the end**

Rey slumps on a stool at the kitchen counter, bare feet dangling, eyes still glazed with sleep. Across from her is a smart TV, and she listens to the weather forecast with one ear. The anchormen fade from the screen, and an ad for Crest 3D Whitestrips replaces the familiar Channel 9 news logo. 

Last night she slept for almost twelve hours, but for some reason she feels _worse_. Sore and uncomfortable and dirty. Kylo promised her she didn’t have to go to school for a few days—“as long as you want” were his exact words—and at this point she’s willing to stretch that as far as she can. 

Remnants from the night before flash back to her as she dunks her spoon in a bowl overflowing with Apple Jacks. Kylo only buys protein for breakfast—like a total jock—but when she whined and pouted, he grabbed his car keys and went to fetch some sugary cereal (Cap’n Crunch and her favorite, Reese’s Puffs, are now stocked in the pantry) and fat-free milk, too. Just for her. 

She doesn’t remember falling asleep. Yesterday was an emotionally taxing day, and by the time she crawled into bed with Kylo’s help, she was already slurring her words. She knows he left to get Chinese takeout around sundown, but she doesn’t remember him coming back. At one point, she opened her eyes and there he was, bare-chested and turned on his side, lips parted. He looks so vulnerable in sleep—he never lets himself relax during the day. 

Rey swirls her spoon around and around the full bowl, clinking the utensil against the sides to avoid eating. The noise distracts her. No thinking about Poe or Luke or anybody else. Just food and mindless television—two of her favorite things. Of course, maybe if she had an appetite she'd actually be able to enjoy it. 

The Channel 9 tune fills the quiet kitchen again, drawing Rey’s attention back to the screen. The two anchormen (who are both _way_ too peppy for eight in the morning) are discussing an accident that occurred late last night near the center of town. She’s initially uninterested. 

“ _Local police are investigating a deadly crash in Bespin Hills. It happened on Chewsdown Boulevard around three on Monday morning._ ” 

A stark photo of the scene appears, and Rey’s spoon dips before it reaches her mouth. She squints, widens her eyes, then squints again. That can’t be right. The car on the screen looks like—

“ _The only car involved in the crash, a green Mazda convertible, was nearly split in half. Pieces of the vehicle are still spread across the boulevard this morning, including most of the front fender._ ”

Rey sets her spoon down on the table and watches, completely paralyzed, as photos flash across the screen. There’s only one car in town painted that obnoxious shade of lime green. 

“ _The vehicle appears to have collided with a utility pole in the southbound lane on Chewsdown Boulevard,”_ the anchorman continues solemnly. _“The force of the collision ejected the unidentified 19-year-old male driver from the vehicle, fire officials said. He was transported via ambulance to Bespin General Hospital and is reportedly in critical condition._ ” 

“That’s Poe’s car,” she whispers to the silent house. _That’s Poe Dameron’s car._

Another commercial break. Cereal forgotten, Rey slowly sits back in her chair and stares blankly at the refrigerator. Poe, in the hospital? Was he drunk? His was the only car on the scene. What was he _doing_? 

Relief snakes its way past her defenses, even as she fights the feeling. At least now he won’t harass her about Kylo. Not for a while, anyway. She wonders how badly he’s hurt. The car’s absolutely mangled, especially on the driver’s side. He’s not dead, which is good—of course it is—but that doesn’t mean he’s _fine_. He could have brain damage or some other trauma. A severed spinal cord. Missing limbs. Anything. 

Rey shakes her head fast and lurches to her feet. She shouldn’t be thinking these things. It’s one thing to wonder about his injuries because she’s concerned; it’s quite another to wonder because she hopes he’ll forget about her and Kylo’s relationship. 

She dumps her mostly-uneaten cereal bowl in the sink and glances warily up the stairs. Kylo’s out of the shower now, so he should be down soon. Maybe they’ll go somewhere. The mall or the park or...somewhere. She’s feeling restless all of a sudden. In need of distraction. 

Before she can get too comfortable on the living room couch, her phone chimes. Twice. Her heart leaps into her throat, and she fumbles to open the message. 

It’s Rose, a girl from her biology class. They talk occasionally, but Rey isn’t sure they have much in common, so they don’t interact very often. 

Mon 8:27 a.m.

**ROSE**  
_oh my god_  
_did u hear?_

Rey swallows and realizes her hands are sweating. She twists the ring on her finger nervously. Her thumb hovers over the keyboard. What should she say? Of course she's heard, but…

Irritation quickly replaces fear. What? Why is she acting like she has something to do with the accident? Just because she wished there was some way to shut Poe up doesn’t mean it’s her fault. That’s stupid. 

Annoyed with herself, Rey starts to type when another text comes in.

Mon 8:30 a.m.

**ROSE**  
_where are u btw?_

**REY**  
_home_

Then, because that’s a little too abrupt, she adds:

**REY**  
_not feeling well_  
_and do u mean Poe?_

**ROSE**  
_of course I mean Poe!! omg Rey...he’s in the hospital and I heard it’s not good_

Her pulse spikes. What does that mean?

**REY**  
_not good??_

**ROSE**  
_yeah apparently both his legs are broken & he hit his head so hard they had to use like 50 stitches! might have a concussion or worse_

_Or worse._ That implies brain damage, doesn’t it? Amnesia, even? 

**REY**  
_how did it happen? was he texting & driving?_

**ROSE**  
_no idea. will keep you updated_ ☹️

She sets her phone down on a table across the room so it'll charge just as Kylo appears on the stairs. A muscle in her face twitches when he calls her name. She doesn’t turn around to look at him when she retakes her seat on the sofa. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice still gruff from sleep. For once, he slept even later than she did. “Did you eat?”

She nods, distracted by a weird ringing in her ears. It feels like she’s missing something—something obvious. _Kylo and Poe, Poe and Kylo…_ Dread begins a slow simmering in her gut. 

“Yeah,” she says finally, turning around. His hair’s still dripping with water from his shower, and the black t-shirt he’s wearing clings to his damp skin. When he wanders close, she fingers his sleeve and offers a small smile. “Thanks for the cereal.” 

“You won’t be thanking me when the dentist calls and lets us know you have ten cavities,” he says with a dramatic sigh. But he sits down next to her, very close—his thigh glues itself to her leg. 

Still caught up in the horrifying imagery, Rey shudders—she hates the dentist. Needles and gas aren’t her thing. “Yeah, right. I take good care of my teeth!” 

Kylo smirks and leans in close. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

He grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her flat on her back. The sofa cushion sinks as he climbs on top of her and presses his lips to hers—a little too rough to be pleasant. She whines and squirms beneath him, her legs awkwardly parted around his hips. There’s a cramp in her left thigh, and the pain brings tears to her eyes. 

Kylo doesn’t notice. His own eyes are closed, and he uses his tongue to pry her lips apart. She inhales the smells of sandalwood and soap from his shower. He swipes his tongue across her incisors, probing the tips hard enough to break skin. If he starts bleeding in her mouth, she might throw up. 

“Kylo, stop,” she mumbles against his lips, twisting her head away. Normally she’d be very much into whatever this is, but something’s holding her back. Images of Poe’s crushed Mazda flash through her head. 

He transfers his lips from her mouth to her neck and starts kissing up the curve of her throat. “Hm. I think you’re overdue for a checkup. Doctor Kylo might be able to help.”

His hands worm under her sundress, but even as he fingers the hem of her silk panties, Rey realizes she’s completely not into it. In fact, his words, meant to be innocently teasing, piss her off. She puts her hands on his chest and shoves.

“What do you know? You’re not a real doctor.”

Kylo pauses, his lips lingering on her neck. He moves back so he can see her face. Rey doesn’t know what expression she’s wearing, but it’s probably not a nice one. Which is fine. She’s not feeling particularly nice.

“You’re moody today.” He studies her face closely, eyes intense. “Are you angry with me?”

She shakes her head and looks away. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees that car wrapped around the utility pole like a hand closing into a tight fist. She remembers Kylo’s face last night when he read the texts Poe sent. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Taking her silence as confirmation, he shifts them both upright and pulls her into his lap, big hands coasting up and down her sides, smoothing her dress to even out the wrinkles. It’s yellow and orange with small black dots—a sunflower ombré. 

Rey purses her lips and stares into the kitchen. A new show has replaced the Channel 9 news. One of those sexist daytime “comedies” where extremely unexceptional men degrade themselves for women and still somehow come out on top. 

“Rey.”

“I didn’t hear you come home last night.”

She chances a peek at his face and is surprised by his expression. It’s soft and slightly wide-eyed. Like a little boy who's seen something astonishing. She’s thrown by this reaction—not exactly what she expected.

“What?” she asks uneasily, shifting in his lap.

“You said _home_.” 

Oh. Her cheeks burn. “That was an accident—"

“No, no,” he protests with a laugh. He cups her cheek. “I want you to feel comfortable here. This _is_ your home.”

She melts, just a little. “I know.”

Pleased, he embraces her and says quietly, “It took me longer than usual to drive there and back.”

“To get our takeout?” Which she still hasn’t touched. The greasy smell that wafted out of the fridge when she yanked the door open this morning made her nauseous. In fact, lately _most_ foods have been making her feel some degree of sick. 

“Yes,” he says carefully. “There was an accident. I had to take a detour.”

Rey bites her lip. “What time did you get home?”

“Around three,” he says casually. The place where they order Chinese food is open twenty-four-seven so people who are up unreasonably late can eat too. _Unreasonably_ , it just so happens, is Kylo’s middle name. 

For the life of her, she can’t remember exactly when she fell asleep. Last night is still a blur. Poe’s texts sent her to a place where time didn’t matter--her anxiety went through the roof. She fell asleep after Kylo kissed her goodnight, and then… That’s where the memories stop. Anything could’ve happened. 

But then, why did Kylo say he returned at nearly _three in the morning_ with their food? It was only a little after sundown when he first told her that he was leaving. All those intervening hours… Where did he go? 

Rey licks her lips and tries again. Maybe he’s just misremembering. “Why so late?” 

He shrugs, jostling her a little. “I thought about cancelling our order, but...I didn’t want you to wake up and be disappointed.”

Something isn’t adding up, but Rey decides to let it go. The longer this conversation goes on the more convinced she is that, whatever the truth, she'll probably be better off not knowing. 

“Okay.” 

A conversation she had with Luke several months ago returns to her suddenly. It’s completely uninteresting in its banality. Except for one thing. 

“So you’re not sure if that’s what happened?” Luke was swirling a spoon inside his Parks & Rec special collector’s mug, mixing black Lipton tea with a packet of sugar. 

Indifferent, Rey had shrugged and slung her backpack over her shoulder. The bus would be at the corner in five minutes. “I mean, I’m just going off what Finn told me. He’s closer to Rose than I am, and he said she drove after the party.”

Luke clicked his tongue. “That girl needs to be kept on a shorter leash. Her parents are too involved with Paige, and I don’t think they realize the impact it’s having on Rose.” He tossed his spoon in the sink and cast her a hard look over the rim of his mug. “Drunk driving is no joke, Rey.”

 _He’s awfully talkative this morning,_ Rey remembers thinking. She glanced at the clock. “I have to go.”

Luke nodded. “Well, it’s a good thing you weren’t there. Plausible deniability.”

She turned back from the front door, annoyed he was still trying to chat. Of all the days she actually wanted to spend time with him, of course he’d choose a time when she really had to leave. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s when you can deny knowing anything about a situation because you deliberately don’t ask or talk about it.” He raised an eyebrow as if to say, _So don’t ask or talk about it, Rey._

She’d rolled her eyes and banged out the front door, racing to catch the bus before it left the neighborhood.

 _Plausible deniability._

Rey bites her bottom lip. Better not to question him, then. 

She rises from the sofa when her phone chimes. It’s charging in an outlet across the room, and even though she has no idea who it could be, her pulse immediately starts to race with a curious sense of foreboding. 

Mon 9:18 a.m.

**ROSE**  
_Poe’s out of surgery! lots of broken bones & a really bad concussion but the drs say he’s gonna be fine_ 🙌🏻

**REY**  
_that’s great! thx for letting me know_

“Who’s that?” Kylo asks, throwing his arms over the back of the couch and crossing his ankles on the coffee table. He’s wearing dark jeans and a black shirt. Despite her unease with him, she can’t help but wish they were still in bed. He always manages to make her forget her worries. 

“Nobody,” she replies, distracted by Rose’s next emoji-filled text. She glances out of the window when a delivery van slows in front of their house. After a moment it moves on. 

He hums thoughtfully. “Is it a secret?”

Awareness creeps in slowly, and she finally realizes he’s using his _don’t-play-games-with-me-Rey_ tone. “It’s this girl, Rose, from school. One of our classmates was in an accident last night.” She deliberately doesn’t use Poe’s name.

“Is that right,” he says flatly. 

Rey frowns and moves closer to the window. “Yeah. He’s going to be okay, I think.”

Kylo doesn’t answer, but that’s fine. She glances at him, then back outside. The driveway is empty, and so is the street in front of the house.

His Mustang’s gone.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unlike Luke’s backyard, which is enormous and empty and somehow meticulously maintained, Kylo’s has a nice concrete patio with a set of four chairs and a matching table. There’s even a grill and a fancy icebox. Very cozy.

It’s not too hot today, and Kylo wants to take advantage of her day off from school, which is why he’s reclining on a chair and she’s straddling his lap with her sundress hiked up around her waist. Her silk panties are still in place but utterly soaked through. She suspects, like so many pairs, they’ll be ripped off soon enough, and he'll have to do his very best to replace them. 

Their mouths are locked together. He swallows her moan and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. Her arms go around his neck, and they rock, Kylo thrusting up, sweet and slow. The wicker chair creaks quietly, the sound edging out the low, persistent buzzing of noisome cicadas. 

“That’s it,” he huffs, speaking through his teeth. His fingers dig into her hips. “Just a little more, baby. A little faster.”

Rey, eyes glazed, only nods.

She rubs herself on his crotch, staining the denim with slick arousal. Her senses are extremely sharp—everything from the heat of the sun on her bare shoulders to the scratch of his fingers as they stroke her hips is amplified. Her worries and concerns seem distant now—unimportant. 

When it’s just the two of them, the world feels right.

Kylo slides a hand across her belly and pushes her dress higher until his fingers graze a breast. No bra today—she hates the things and rarely needs one anyway. He cups one in his palm and sighs blissfully. 

“A perfect fit,” he murmurs, rubbing her nipple with his thumb. It’s calloused, and the rough friction makes her shift with a low whine. He smiles. “Hush now.”

She settles, eyes falling closed when his lips graze her throat. A light breeze ruffles the ends of her hair, and she kisses Kylo’s jaw. He pushes up, his erection straining at the tented denim between her legs. 

She could live in this moment forever. Her heart is so full she can’t ever imagine life without him. She can’t imagine recovering if he ever decides to leave her behind. 

Kylo grunts and manages a garbled, “ _I’m cumming_ ,” and then he shudders and goes taut beneath her. She follows, her body clenching around his, pressing herself to him as her insides turn molten and a gush of warmth leaks from between her legs. She gasps into his neck and rides the wave with him. 

Distantly, Rey becomes aware of a high-pitched ringing. She’s convinced it’s only in her ears—an aftereffect of their mutual climax—but then Kylo reaches for his phone and presses the **ACCEPT** button. She ducks her head and lays it on his chest so he can bring the phone to his ear. 

“This is Kylo,” he says gruffly. He listens, then adds, “Great. When can you drive it over?”

Rey frowns and peers up at him. _Drive it over._ His Mustang? 

“Yes, I’m here now. Good.” Kylo hangs up and slides his phone back into his pocket. He winds his arms around her waist and kisses her gently. “Okay?”

She nods and adjusts the hem of her dress so it covers her thighs. “Who was that?”

“The auto shop,” he explains, running a finger down the curve of her throat. She arches her neck automatically, leaning in. “They’re bringing my car over soon.”

“What’s wrong with it? I noticed it wasn’t in the driveway.”

Kylo’s lips tilt up at the corners in an odd little smile. “Ah, I hit a deer last night on the way home. No big deal. Only minor damage. Stupid thing was in the middle of the road.” He touches the corner of her mouth. “Just asking for it, really.”

A chill creeps down Rey’s spine. “Oh.”

Kylo’s eyes darken, and he pouts teasingly. “Aren’t you going to ask if I’m okay?” 

Rey laughs. It’s a hollow sound. “Of course you are. You're here, aren’t you?” She runs a hand down his chest. “You seem perfectly fine to me.” 

He makes a deep rumble—almost a purr—in his chest and fixes her with an unreadable stare. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

She looks at him uncertainly.

“It’s been pure torture watching you but not—not touching you.” His mouth works, like he’s uncomfortable. “All this time you’ve been right next door, but I wasn’t—I couldn’t be with you.” 

Rey bites her lip. He’s been watching her for that long? “Why not?”

He sighs and runs a hand down her arm. “Oh, baby, you were too young. You still are,” he adds with a small laugh, “but I’m here now. I’m going to teach you so much.” 

She opens her mouth, but the doorbell rings. The noise startles her, and she almost falls out of his lap. But Kylo grips her hips and helps her climb to her feet, both of them obviously rattled by the interruption. He kisses her again before striding for the door.

Rey listens as he greets their visitor, and another man’s voice overlaps his own. She wanders into the house, pausing in the living room when she spies Kylo’s Mustang in its usual place in the driveway. He’s talking to a man wearing the uniform of a local body shop. The car looks shiny and brand new. No dents or missing pieces.

All at once, she’s shaking uncontrollably. This isn’t right. She knows, on a very basic, fundamental level that his story doesn’t make sense. He’s not telling her the truth, and no matter how hard she tries to convince herself otherwise, Rey can’t ignore the fact that there’s a very decent chance Kylo’s done something to Poe. 

She peeks out of the window again. Kylo’s still occupied with the auto shop employee, both of them nodding and pointing at different spots on the car. Hopefully they’ll be busy for a while. Rey swallows down her fear and races to the second floor and into his office—a place she’s only been in once to look for a pair of scissors. Kylo had immediately shooed her out. 

Her body acts independently of her mind, which in this case is a good thing. Her mind is a landscape of worries and concerns and half-formed ideas, none of them helpful. She opens his desk drawers and fumbles through file folders, fingers trembling. 

She doesn’t know precisely _what_ she’s looking for, but she’s certain she’ll know it when she sees it. Something out of place. Something hidden or unmarked. There’s nowhere else such a thing—if it indeed exists—would be except his office. This is the only room in the house she hasn’t explored because Kylo’s always home, and Kylo won’t let her in here. 

None of the drawers yield results. She slams closed the last one, frustrated by the lack of results, and considers attempting to log in to his laptop. It’s password-protected though, and he’s a fucking software engineer—of course it won’t be easy. She’s just a dumb teenage girl who hasn’t even graduated from high school yet. 

He’s always one step ahead. Just when she thinks to do something, she learns he’s already taken care of it. 

Rey slumps to the floor behind his desk. She wants to believe this defeat won’t deter her, but that’s not the truth. Kylo rarely leaves her alone in the house, except maybe when she’s napping. There isn’t time to go digging for secrets that may or may not exist. Maybe she’s just being paranoid. 

But then she recalls the conversation between him and Luke only yesterday. 

“ _We_ never _agreed to an arrangement, formally or otherwise._ ” 

“ _All the paperwork is in my name. There’s nothing legally binding her to you._ ” 

Beneath Luke’s thin veneer of disdain and contempt, there had been something far more powerful: fear. In the heat of the moment, these words had seemed sharp, bitter. But looking back, she remembers the glint of nervousness in his eyes, the way his fingers had twitched around the handle of his tea mug. 

Luke’s afraid of the truth. Kylo refuses to tell her anything. 

She can’t give up. There’s something there. She has to find it. 

So she yanks on the bottom drawer, baring her teeth when it sticks, and that’s when she notices the gap. It’s slim, no larger than an inch or two, almost a foot long on the underside of the desk. Rey reaches for it, heart thundering, and slides out a thin manila envelope. She unwinds the red string from its catch and slips free a single piece of paper.

Disappointment threatens, but then her eyes alight on the date—September 6th, 2012—and the two heavily inked signatures at the bottom. 

Kylo Ren.

Luke Skywalker.

This is it.

She reads, hands shaking so badly she has to lay the paper flat on the floor. The words rush through her head, jumbled nonsense. She makes it to the bottom and without pausing reads it again. Then a third time. A fourth.

It’s short but undeniable. A contract. She doesn’t know the difference between a real one and a fake one—doesn’t there have to be a third witness?—but in this case it probably doesn’t matter. This is a contract between two men who intended it to be very real. Luke and Kylo are serious about it. They’re serious now, and they were clearly serious then too.

There are tears on her cheeks, but Rey doesn’t feel them. Her face is numb. She feels disconnected from her body. The words float in front of her face— **TRANSFER** and **PAYMENT** and **DEBTS OWED**. 

A contract. Rey stares dazedly into space. She was adopted by Luke Skywalker on the date mentioned—September 6th, 2012—at the age of nine from an orphanage several towns over. This part she’s always known. 

But the contract also mentions something her adoption papers never did. She's seen those at least half a dozen times. Luke showed them to her—allowed her to read them thoroughly—when she was old enough to understand the basic legalese. 

This contract admits an added layer. This contract says Luke adopted her, yes, but he’s not the one who _paid_. Which makes all the difference. 

This contract—

“Rey.”

She doesn’t move when Kylo steps into the office and rounds the desk. He stops immediately when he sees her on the floor, legs sprawled awkwardly in front of her like a little kid, the single piece of paper a stark, unflinching white against the dark gray carpet. She doesn’t look at him.

“That’s not what it looks like,” he says in a deceptively calm voice. She knows better. 

“What is this?” Her voice surprises her—it’s steady, no hint of the turmoil seething inside her. “ _What is this?_ ” 

“...Rey, I need you to—“

She surges to her feet, eyes wild, snatching up the paper and waving it in his face. “ _WHAT IS THIS?_ ” 

“Baby, I can—“

“ _No!_ ” she says—a broken cry. No _baby_ , no _sweetheart_ , no pet names or endearments. She wants answers because this— _this_ isn’t an answer. “Why do you have this?”

Kylo sways towards her, but she flinches back. Her hip hits the edge of a slim table along one wall, and her side burns with fresh pain. She doesn’t look away from him, though. 

“You weren’t meant to see that.” Kylo seems entirely unperturbed by the circumstances, which makes her feel helpless. He’s been sitting on this secret for so long—him and Luke both—and yet he’s acting like it doesn’t matter. Like the facts as she knows them haven’t been warped and twisted past recognition. 

“Tell me what it means,” she whispers, tears dripping from her chin. A bewildered sob catches in her chest. “Why does it say that—that you and—”

But she can’t finish. She lets the paper drift to the floor, her fingers numb, and slowly crumples to the ground. Kylo lurches forward, then seems to think better of it.

He nods once. And then he starts to talk.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**  
FIVE YEARS AGO   
**

Luke sank into his preferred patio chair, rubbing a tired hand across his pale face. The man was getting on in age—he must’ve been in his late sixties, by this point—and it was starting to show. 

It seemed he was finally starting to realize that he was in way over his head. 

Kylo idly fingered the neck of his beer bottle, sharp eyes roving across the backyard, taking in the perfectly mowed lawn, the chairs arranged on the square of pavement that passed as a patio, and the assortment of kid toys—an inflatable Slip 'N Slide, a plastic pool decorated with colorful fish, a gigantic bouncy ball that had to be at least four feet in height, and numerous Barbie and arts and craft pieces. It was an explosion of color incongruous with the rest of Luke’s boring, monotone house. 

Kylo took all of this in, but his eyes returned again and again to the girl standing in the middle of the chaos. She was tiny and sun-burned, wild brown hair dripping down her back, dressed in shorts and a tank top soaked with water from the hose. Her green eyes popped vividly whenever they swung his way, and Kylo found himself involuntarily sitting up straighter if her attention gravitated towards him, which it often did. 

If he caught her eye and smiled, she would giggle and twirl away. He forced himself each and every time to remain seated. 

Luke cleared his throat, and Kylo reluctantly switched his attention to his neighbor. 

“An addendum isn’t necessary.”

Frowning, Kylo tilted his head. “You sure about that?”

“I’m not trying to pull one over on you,” Luke said tiredly. “You know that. I’m saying an addendum’s not necessary because—I understand where you’re coming from, but I do not agree to it.”

Kylo blinked. That was not entirely unexpected, but he hadn’t thought Luke would be so blunt about it.

“You do not agree to it,” he repeated slowly. He sipped from his beer and peered through the hazy summer heat. Rey was smacking the bouncy ball around the yard, kicking with her feet when her hands didn’t do the job. 

“No,” Luke said firmly. “Listen. We’ve been over this. The adoption papers are final. Rey lives with me. Why can’t we leave it at that?” His face clearly expressed his bafflement. “No one will allow her to move in with you. How would that look, a twelve-year-old living with a man unrelated to—"

“Spare me.” Luke was right in one regard; they had been over and over this. But he always presented the same arguments. Kylo, on the other hand, was far more flexible. He would get his way—eventually. “I’m not asking for Rey to live with me. Not yet. But when she’s older—"

“Eighteen.”

Kylo rolled his eyes. “Sure. When she’s older, we allow her to make her own decision. Maybe she’ll stay here with you. But maybe,” and here he allowed himself a small smile, “she’ll want to come with me.”

Luke leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I don’t understand you, Kylo. Why are you so adamant about this? Rey isn’t going anywhere.”

Oh, but she _could_. Kylo couldn’t risk her getting away, not when he had already invested so much time in cultivating their relationship. She lived right next door, in a bedroom facing the side of his own house, but that distance might as well be twenty miles instead of twenty feet for all the time Luke allowed them to spend together. 

Luke had called the meeting, but it was Kylo who needed to speak with him about the alteration to their standing contract. An alteration he had persistently been demanding Luke add, one way or another. 

Three years ago, Luke adopted a nine-year-old girl from an orphanage on the brink of shutting down. She was quiet and underfed, reluctant to touch or be touched, and so afraid of loud noises she would hide in her closet for days until Luke was forced to either drag her out or call for help. 

Rey. No last name, so the caretakers gave her one: Johnson. Rey Johnson. When Luke adopted her, she assumed the Skywalker surname, which was only natural. 

But Rey Ren had a nice ring to it too. 

It was a secret between the two of them alone that Kylo was the one who paid all the expenses. Rey’s adoption fees, her numerous doctor appointments, clothing and toys, schooling, and even the start of a college fund. In only three years, Rey's total expenses amounted to an astronomical price—somewhere in the ninety grand range—but Kylo had money to spare, and Luke was desperate. 

Desperation made men do crazy things. 

The old man had no kids, nor had he ever been in a long-term relationship. Luke’s career was his whole goddamned life, which was sad, certainly, and yet Kylo found himself relating. He could only afford shit like vintage cars and old tech because he’d dedicated every waking hour to building his own software development company in his late teens. Soon he would be able to work exclusively from home, and in a decade, hopefully before his fortieth birthday, he could retire. 

Luke’s company wanted to promote him, but their whole shtick was the ideal “family man,” and Luke did not have a family. Desperate to get ahead—and initially interested in raising a child of his own—Luke began searching adoption sites. Soon he found locations nearby, and within minutes of arriving at the chosen orphanage, he saw Rey for the first time. 

But Luke, for all his research and emotional investment and desperation, didn’t have the money for such a gargantuan expense. He knew of only one person who could afford to help him, and even though they had never gotten along especially well, Luke was willing to put aside his ego and ask.

All Kylo needed to know was that the adopted child was a girl, and he was in. 

He didn't see or meet Rey when he lent Luke the money. All he knew was that she was indeed a _she_ and not quite ten years old. 

Kylo hadn’t much cared about the logistics. The two of them weren’t enemies, but neither were they friends or even civil acquaintances. However, it pleased him to have Luke in his debt. He wasn’t above holding the payment above the old man’s head to get things he needed. 

But plans for blackmail went straight out the window the day he finally met Rey. 

He saw her for the very first time when Luke rang him up on a random Thursday afternoon in a near panic. 

“I don’t know what to do! She won’t stop crying, and it’s been at _least_ a full day since she last ate, and—she—I’m worried she’s going to—I’m not sure if—”

While Luke fumbled to explain, Kylo simply ended the call and barged into his neighbor’s house. The old man could be chatty when he wanted, which was incredibly inconvenient. Less was more. 

Kylo stopped dead on the threshold. 

Perched on the sofa was a very slight, very young girl. She was wearing plain blue pajama pants and a matching top, and her hands were on her knees—not braced, just resting. Tears trickled down her hollow cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound. She simply sat there, unmoving, eyes distant and unseeing, staring at a point straight ahead. 

Ignoring Luke completely, Kylo had dropped to his knees and waited for her to focus on him. It took a full minute. 

“Hey there,” he said softly, in a voice he had never used before. “My name’s Kylo. You’re Rey, right?”

She didn’t nod or react in any way, but he was determined. His heart beat unsteadily as he watched her cry, and a part of him—a very _big_ part—wanted nothing more than to tear apart the thing that was causing her such pain. He would do it with bare hands if need be. With his fucking _teeth_. 

Something about the girl made him feel protective. Like he would beat back a horde of ravenous beasts just to keep her safe. 

“Uncle Luke is worried about you, Rey. He just wants to make sure you’re okay.” Her eyes flickered to his face. Encouraged, he pressed, ”If you eat, I’m sure he’ll stop pestering you.”

Behind him, Luke choked on a protest. 

“Please eat, Rey.” Kylo let his eyes rest on hers, and his pulse went wild when she tilted her head. “For me.”

The next moment stretched endlessly. He imagined it was only ten seconds at most, but right then it was easier to believe her decision took ten years. 

But then she rose to her feet, still staring at him, and walked into the kitchen where a ham and cheese sandwich with potato chips waited for her on a ceramic plate. 

His attachment was instantaneous, like a lock clicking home. 

From that point on, Kylo wanted nothing more than to be part of the girl’s life. He had never envisioned a family of his own, truthfully—his tastes were too singular—but watching Rey slowly come out of her shell and develop interests, watching her smile and laugh and tentatively touch his wrist when she wanted his attention, made him crave one. 

He wasn’t yet thirty, but he was certainly old enough to be her father. Kylo imagined in vivid detail helping her get ready for school in the morning, making breakfast together, pushing her on the swings at the park, coaching her through math homework, shopping for fresh school supplies every August, reading bedtime stories together before she fell asleep every night. 

He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but Rey changed that. In the mornings, when he woke fresh from a blurred dream, his first thought was for her— _did she sleep well?_ At night, his last thought was for her— _I hope Luke remembers to tuck the blankets around her shoulders. She gets cold easily._ He bought her gifts for every holiday, every birthday, and spent hours upon hours watching over her as she played. 

By the time she turned twelve, Kylo had made peace with an unprecedented fact: that he didn’t simply love her as a father loved his daughter. It was a deeper kind of love, one with many complex layers. He still wanted her for his own. 

Just in a different way.

“I paid for her,” he said finally, meeting Luke’s watery stare. “She’s mine. Yes, I know the paperwork is in your name. You remind me every week,” he muttered, sipping again from his beer. “But without _me_ , you never would’ve been approved for an adoption.”

Luke sighed. “I understand that—“

“I really don’t think you do,” Kylo interrupted, suddenly furious. He tapped his finger on the glass front of the table. “You owe me your promotions—all of them. But more importantly, you owe me Rey. Forget the ninety grand,” he ordered in a low voice. “Let me have her once she’s old enough to know herself—"

“Eighteen,” Luke said again, but in a hopeless sort of way. 

Kylo rolled his lips and shook his head. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

Luke was bewildered. “Why not? It’s one damn year. You can’t just decide to elope with a minor because you’re _impatient_ —“ 

“Don’t be dramatic,” he said with another eye roll. “ _Elope_. Please. She’ll be right next door. We’re not going anywhere, and at seventeen she'll be old enough to know what she wants.”

Luke groaned and mumbled something about impossible men. “We shouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Ninety grand,” Kylo repeated tirelessly, and Luke looked down. “I’ll forgive you the money if you let me have Rey.”

“She’s not an object to be passed around,” his neighbor said quietly, gazing out at the backyard where Rey was playing. “She’s not something to be used or manipulated.”

“Don’t tell me what she is or _isn’t_ ,” Kylo snarled, all attempts at civility wiped aside. “I know her just as well as you do. More so, because I actually fucking care.”

Luke’s face went taut. “Don’t you dare—"

Kylo laughed humorlessly. “We don’t need to pretend, Skywalker. You used Rey to get ahead. Your career has been your first priority all this time—don’t think I’m unaware of that. From the beginning, Rey has been _my_ first priority.” He bared his teeth and hissed, “You’ve seen us together. You _know_ I love her.”

“Not as you should.” Luke’s voice was quiet. He met Kylo’s eyes unflinchingly. “It’s not right. Let her be. Please.” 

“I would never touch her, not unless she wanted me, too. Eighteen,” he conceded finally. Then he paused and added truthfully, “Seventeen at the earliest.” 

Luke didn’t react. He just kept staring. 

But Kylo would not back down. Aside from the legal paperwork, which wasn’t in his favor, Rey was his in every sense of the word. He visited her every day, paid close attention to her likes and dislikes, bought her anything she wanted, and was always there if she needed something. 

He didn’t want to fuck a twelve-year-old—he wasn’t _that_ depraved—but he did want to care for and protect her more than anything. There was a sense of belonging he felt when he was around Rey that he'd never experienced before. It was like coming home. He wanted to see her day and night and all the hours in between, not only when it was convenient for Luke, who always supervised the two of them, which...well, maybe that was understandable. 

If _he_ had been Rey’s father or guardian, Kylo certainly wouldn’t let a man like him anywhere near his daughter. Sometimes he was genuinely afraid he might smother the girl, so he took careful pains to reign in his emotions when they were together. He wouldn't want to overwhelm her.

“If you insist,” Luke said finally. He sounded exhausted. “But you let Rey make her own decisions. You don’t try to influence her in any way. When she’s of age—“ He obviously refused to concede to seventeen, but that didn’t bother Kylo. “—you have my permission to…” Luke fumbled. “Pursue her.”

Kylo didn’t smile. “Are you sure we don’t need that addendum?”

Luke refused to look at him. Something in their already precarious relationship had broken irreparably. “I’m sure.”

A weight in Kylo’s chest vanished. She wasn’t going to get away. In a few years, he would be free to make her his own. He already owned her, after all. Now it was just a matter of marking his claim.

He licked his lips and called, “Rey, sweetie! Come here.”

She ran over at once, eyes big, smiling tentatively. Kylo carefully pulled her between his legs and wrapped his arms around her waist. She was still so goddamned _tiny_. It scared him sometimes, how easily he could break her if he wasn’t careful.

But he was always careful when it came to Rey. 

“Are you having fun?” 

She nodded quickly. “Yep! I like the Slipper Slide. I’ve never seen one in person before!”

“Slip 'N Slide,” he corrected gently, grinning at her enthusiasm. He lightly poked her cheek. “Just be careful, okay, princess?” 

Her little nose wrinkled, and she tilted her head, watching him through eyes an impossible shade of green. “Why?” 

Luke observed them silently. 

“Because,” Kylo said, his voice raspy, “there are people who love you, Rey. People who don’t want to see you get hurt. So just—“ He broke off and playfully tapped her nose. “Be careful. Please.”

“Okay, okay!” she wailed, wiggling free. “I won’t do anything scary, I promise!”

Rey skipped back to the plastic pool, and Kylo watched her longingly. 

“Let her be,” Luke repeated coldly. 

Kylo didn’t bother to respond. Their work here was done, after all. He didn’t owe Luke anything—quite the opposite. The original contract still stood, now with new terms Luke had verbally agreed to honor—no payment due as long as Rey’s care was eventually transferred over to Kylo. 

But he soon realized, after careful consideration, that he was unsatisfied with _verbal_. That wouldn’t do. Not when Rey was at stake. Too ambiguous. Too much room for misinterpretation, which Luke would no doubt use to his advantage. 

Kylo returned home that night and drafted a detailed addendum, which he showed to Luke the next morning. 

When he slapped the paper down on his neighbor’s kitchen counter, Luke signed it without a word.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**  
PRESENT DAY   
**

Sometimes when Rey visits the mall with her friends, she’ll sneak outside to watch the girls on the corner. 

While shopping, Kaydel will inevitably get distracted by a display of European chocolates in the candy store by the mall cafeteria, and Rose is often too overwhelmed by the dress selection at Forever21 to notice when Rey slips away. She always detours through Macy’s and uses a side door. 

On the street, she’ll walk casually to a granite bench and perch on top, eyes roving up and down the sidewalks. Her friends won’t notice she’s missing—they never do because they aren’t really _friends_ , just people she hangs out with occasionally to pass the time. Besides, she knows Kaydel only asks her out because she has money and sometimes offers to buy them nice clothes and stuff. 

Whatever. She doesn’t take it personally, and neither do they. 

Then she watches as the girls appear. A thorough internet search taught her that they go by many names. Escorts. Prostitutes. Hookers. Street-walkers. Sex workers. Rey personally prefers _escorts_ because it sounds important. Intimidating too, in a weird way. Like they can kick your ass in platform heels and apply a fresh coat of lipstick at the same time. 

Probably true.

The escorts walk up and down the streets, flashing skin and tossing their heads. Cars slow down, windows lower, and the girls bend over and flirt. All seamless. Cash is exchanged—Rey never sees it happen herself, but her research told her as much. Cash and sometimes gifts, if the customer’s rich and nice enough. 

The cash is the whole point, she’s discovered. It’s for services rendered. 

Staring at Kylo now, she understands. All of it—everything. It makes a horrifying sort of sense. _She_ is an escort. 

Her adoption is a fluke. She was used and cast aside once her services were no longer required—daughter, placeholder, facade. She was bought and paid for, then tossed between these two men like a bag of sugar. Something to be shared among neighbors. 

Something with no inherent value. Something expendable. A means to an end. 

There’s no love here. Only...exploitation. 

The silence stretches between them. Kylo watches her through eyes dark as night, expression closed off. He’d stopped speaking at the perfect moment. One more word and she might've begun to scream...and scream and scream.

Rey stares at the paper on the floor. The contract. The addendum. The original states that Kylo paid for her adoption, and Luke would provide care, shelter, food, and support. The addition states that he would only provide these things until she was “old enough.” Luke’s debt would be forgiven as long as he did not restrict or prevent Kylo’s access to her. 

“I’m an escort,” she says dully, and the words run around and around in her head on a loop. _An escort, you’re an escort. No one wants you. You’ve always just been a means to an end._

“A—what?” Kylo’s confused at first, but then the furrow between his eyebrows smooths out. Understanding dawns. “Oh no, baby, no. Don’t think like that—“

“You bought me,” she interrupts, still in that same flat, indifferent voice. Then again, because it only makes sense when she says it aloud: “You _bought_ me.” 

“We did not,” he says firmly, stepping closer. “Luke adopted you—that’s different and you know it. It’s all very legal. I just provided the funds. It was a...joint venture. It benefits all three of us—”

Rey shakes her head. Stop. No more. He’s using big words and terms to confuse her on purpose because he’s been manipulating her _all this time_ , and just like Luke, he’ll toss her away like garbage as soon as he’s done with her. As soon as he gets what he wants.

“What do you want.”

“Rey—“

She finally looks at him. _Really_ looks at him. His jaw is tight, and his hands flex at his sides like he wants to...strangle her or something. It doesn’t matter. None of this is real.

“What do you want?” she demands, anger in her voice. Good. She’d rather be angry than numb. “Tell me what you _want_ from me.” 

“I don’t want anything,” he says in a low voice. “I—“

Rey is suddenly gripped by nausea. Her head spins, and she leans against the wall for support. Lately she’s been feeling a weird sort of vertigo that makes her vomit first thing in the morning. Food makes her stomach twist too—she’s lost almost ten pounds since moving in with Kylo. Probably stress or something, and no wonder. 

God, she _hates_ this. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. 

_It benefits all three of us._

Luke’s part in all this isn’t so surprising. It always struck her as odd that he would adopt a child whom he had no real interest in raising. That’s because he didn’t. Not really. 

_Means to an end._

Well, Luke’s the second-in-command at his company now, so she supposes he got what he wanted. Kudos to him. 

But Kylo... 

“You were using me,” she whispers. The tears have started back up again. Great. Just what she needs. More humiliation. “All this time—"

“No,” he says sharply. “I never used you, Rey. I was always respectful of your circumstances, and I never tried to—“

“You broke into my room in the middle of the night!” she cries furiously. “You told me you were only there after a date with some _girl_ , like—like I was some _consolation prize_ —”

Second best. Inferior. The less desired option.

“They didn’t mean anything, Rey,” he says harshly, nostrils flaring. He's furious, and for the first time she's afraid he'll do something he won't be able to take back. “I’ve been on dates, but I’ve never _dated_. All those girls were meant to help me pass the time. They were distractions—"

 _All those girls._ How many, Kylo? How many is _all_? 

Rey covers her face. “I bet that’s what you told _them_ , too! That all the other girls, they were _distractions_ , they didn’t _mean_ anything, and then—“ She can’t finish. 

It’s crumbling. All of it. The fantasy. The dream. Collapsing like a castle made of sand. 

She’ll always just be that little orphan girl waiting for someone to pick her first. 

He doesn't love her. He _owns_ her, and there is no feeling in ownership. 

Her hands drop limply to her sides. “Luke wanted me to advance his career,” she says dully. What a horrible fucking reason to adopt a lonely, desperate child. To benefit yourself and not the child's life. Her words turn vicious. “You wanted me because you were alone and—and _horny_ —and you couldn’t get a woman your own age, so you decided the stupid girl next door would do.” 

Kylo closes the distance between them in one stride. He grips her shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. “Don’t talk like that,” he snaps, panicked. “It’s not true. I’ve always—"

She puts her hands on his chest and _shoves_ him as hard as she can, which, with adrenaline coursing through her veins, is actually pretty hard. _Get the fuck away from me._ He grits his teeth but doesn’t take so much as a single step back. Her heart misses a beat, and she feels a trickle of fear, which she deliberately ignores. Fear is useless. 

_He owns me. He owns me. I am a thing to be owned._

With a furious scream, she shoves him again and again. She starts hitting his chest when he refuses to move, her fists beating at his arms and shoulders. But it doesn’t make a difference. Nothing she does _ever_ seems to make a difference.

 _A means to an end._

Rey flings herself to the side, shoving at his arms, and breaks free. He curses and makes a grab for her. Too slow. She’s out of the office and thundering down the main stairs, her heart in her throat, before five seconds have passed. _Leave, leave, leave_ pounds in her head. 

Her hand finds the handle on the front door, and she yanks it open, body singing with adrenaline. A blast of fresh air fills the foyer, and she breathes it in, allowing herself a small moment of comfort before she—

Kylo’s hand slams against the door above her head and shuts it before she’s registered his presence. His hands force her to turn, and he pushes her against the door, restraining her by the wrists. She struggles, but both her confidence and adrenaline are flagging. He’s too strong. 

He holds her wrists against the door, high above their heads, and he breathes raggedly. She’s never seen him so out of breath before. _Don’t care,_ she thinks furiously. _I don’t care._

“Let me go,” she whispers, eyes on his chest. More tears. They streak her cheeks in a salty flood. 

“I can’t do that.” He sounds pained.

“I don’t care. Let me go.” 

“No.”

“ _Let me go_.” 

“...No.”

Rey bites her bottom lip to keep from screaming or crying or maybe a bit of both. 

She doesn’t look at his face when she says, “You were going to tell me to leave anyway. Just let me go—it doesn’t _matter_ now—“

“Why would I do that? I was never going to tell you to leave.” Unbelievably, he laughs, like her distress is a joke. Amusing to him. 

Rey’s head snaps up, eyes blazing. She doesn’t register the look on his face. Instead, she thrashes in his grip, yanking on her arms and kicking at his shins. But he slowly presses her into the door, riding out the tantrum until she wears herself out. 

His voice dips, and he presses his mouth to her ear. “I was never going to tell you to leave, Rey. Never.”

“Once you were done with me, you were going to toss me away,” she says weakly. This is a fact she’s repeated to herself night after night. Now, after seeing that contract, it’s as good as confirmed. 

He rests his forehead on her temple. “Why do you think that? I don’t—don’t understand why you think that, Rey.” 

“Why do you even care?” she asks through her tears, crying in earnest now. He’s willfully misunderstanding. “You just want to have sex with me because it’s c- _convenient_ —I’m just a toy for you to play with when you’re bored—”

“ _Stop_ ,” he says hoarsely, pinning her to the door with his full weight. “Stop it. Jesus Christ. You don’t know what you’re saying, just _stop_ —" 

But she won’t. This is the truth. This is the reality under the dream, under the fantasy. This is what she’s tried so hard to hide from herself so she won’t get hurt. 

But in the end, the truth will out. 

“You _paid_ for me,” she cries, shaking uncontrollably. “Like a magazine or a—a new TV. You always—a-always acted like I should be _thankful_ you were paying attention to m-me—“ 

Rey can’t continue. She ducks her head so she doesn’t have to see his face and sobs and sobs until she chokes. Her heart is a cracked piece of clay—spiderwebbed with pain. This is worse than she could have imagined. Far worse. 

She’s _never_ been wanted, not even by those who are obligated. No family, no friends, no love. It’s like she never left the orphanage. 

Rey yanks weakly on her hand, and after a moment Kylo releases his hold on her wrist. Just one—the other’s still pinned to the door—but it’s the hand she needs. Carefully, she slides the ring off her finger. It falls to the floor with a muted clang. Kylo doesn’t move when it rolls to a stop at the toe of his shoe. 

“There,” she hiccups. “Have it back. I don’t want it.”

Why is he still holding on? She wants to tell him to let go, _please_ just let go, but her voice is too weak. Maybe they’ll stand like this forever. 

“Did I ever tell you about that day on my patio?” he says finally, voice scratchy like it’s been scrapped raw. 

She doesn’t really know what he’s talking about, so she stays quiet. _Let me go._

Undeterred, he continues in a low voice. “It was last year. Luke was still at work, and you were home early from school. Half day or something. I saw you sitting on the front step and asked if you were hungry.”

Dumb question. She’s always hungry.

“So I fed you macaroni and cheese, and we sat on my patio eating popsicles. Those push-up ones that get juice everywhere. I hated them because they’re just sugared ice, but—“ Kylo pauses, his breath fanning across her mouth. She feels the brush of his eyelashes on her cheek every time he blinks. “But you loved them. So of course I had to buy every flavor.”

Rey remembers now. She was on the stoop because she’d forgotten her house key and nobody was home to let her in. Luke doesn’t believe in hiding a spare. 

“And we were talking about nothing, and when you finished your popsicle, you had red smeared all over your mouth. You grinned at me, and—“ He laughs softly. “—And your teeth were red too. Like a little vampire.”

Her cheeks burn at the memory. She was so embarrassed when she caught sight of herself in a mirror afterward.

He swallows audibly. “I wanted to kiss you then. So fucking badly. I knew it was wrong, and I _still_ know that, but it doesn’t change the fact. If Luke hadn’t pulled into the driveway right then, I think I would’ve done it. Kissed you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” she says finally. At sixteen, she had still been trying _very_ hard to get into Luke’s good graces, and she absolutely would’ve told him what their next-door neighbor tried to do. 

“I’m glad too. Even though I had to wait another year. Even though I felt like I might go insane.” He inhales slowly. “The freezer in my garage is still filled with them, you know.”

She doesn’t understand. “Filled with—”

“Popsicles. I went back to the store and bought as many packs as I could find. The cashier looked at me like I was fucking demented.” He laughs again, but it’s a painful sound. “I wanted you to come back.”

“...Luke didn’t want me spending time with you,” she admits, then realizes he’s probably already well aware of that. Luke had grounded her for two weeks when he found out she spent the afternoon at Kylo’s. Alone. 

“I know.” Kylo‘s expression darkens. “He used to call me the devil, you know. Because of the contract. As if he hadn't eagerly jumped at the chance to do something that benefited him too.” 

She simply stares.

“Do you still want to leave?” 

Rey nods hesitantly. The tears have abated, but the pain in her chest is still there. Not any worse than before, but not diminished, either. 

Kylo abruptly releases her wrists. He turns the locks on the front door and steps back. 

“What do you want, Rey?” he asks wildly, gesturing around the house. Something inside him seems to have broken loose. He's very pale. “I’ll give you anything, baby. You want a car? Let me call a dealership. You want to visit France? I can get tickets on a flight for tonight. Pack a bag!” He laughs, the sound slightly hysterical. “I’ll buy a fucking mall for you so you can go shopping whenever you want. I’ll get you a job anywhere in the city, just name the place.”

“Kylo—“ 

“Just _stay_. I’ll keep you safe,” he says hoarsely. “I’ll—I won’t touch you, if you don’t want. I’ll tell everyone to stay the fuck away from you if you want to be left alone. I— There’s nothing I wouldn’t do. People like Poe—" He cuts himself off with a wince. 

“What did you do to Poe?” she whispers, trembling against the door. Oh god, she's forgotten all about that.

He doesn’t bullshit. “I took care of a problem. For you, Rey.” 

“You tried to _kill_ him.”

His eyes darken. “No. I wanted to scare the kid, and I—fuck, I took it too far.” 

_The only car involved in the crash, a green Mazda convertible, was nearly split in half._

“I can’t believe this,” she whispers to herself. Her fingers drift to the doorknob. Maybe there’s still a way—

“Don’t,” he warns in a low voice. “I’ll just drag you back.”

She huffs incredulously. “You can’t keep me here against my will.” 

“Wanna bet?” He raises a single, challenging eyebrow. 

No, she does not _want to bet_. He’ll win, of course. He’s bigger and stronger and smarter. He has every advantage. He’s been planning this for years and years. 

But she still has to try. 

“You should let me go,” she says uneasily. “Maybe that’s for the best.”

Kylo simply stares at her like she’s speaking another language. “You don’t get it.” 

“No,” Rey admits tiredly. She doesn’t. “Explain it to me.”

“I’ve tried,” he says through his teeth. “The adoption is legitimate. Luke wanted you for reasons not entirely clear to me—okay, _fine_ ,” he amends, catching the look on her face, “I know he needed a better job and was strapped for cash, and I liked having him in my debt. Then I _met_ you, and I realized that—“ He pauses and rubs a hand over his chin, struggling. “I should’ve just adopted you myself. Fuck Luke.” 

“Fuck Luke,” she agrees softly. That’s something they still have in common, at least. 

Some of the articles Poe sent her last night flare in her mind like neon signs. If Kylo’s wanted her since she was barely a pre-teen, doesn’t that make him kind of...well, a pedo? A shiver crawls down her spine. Had he been fantastizing about all the things he wanted to do to her when she was twelve, thirteen, fourteen? 

So maybe douchebag Poe had the right idea, after all. Ironic. 

Rey nervously licks her lips and wishes absently for some lip balm. “I think—” But no, that idea won’t do. He’ll never agree to another contract. “I turn eighteen in three weeks,” she reminds him, her mind working sluggishly, like she’s been drugged. 

“You do,” he says, watching her closely. He drifts towards her, and she braces herself against the front door. _Don’t come any closer._

“What’s stopping me from leaving then? I’ll be legal. I can just walk away.” _From you,_ she thinks, even as her heart breaks at the thought. _From Luke. From all of this. Go off to college and never come back._

Kylo braces his hands on the door on either side of her head. But he doesn’t touch her. “You can certainly try.”

A tremor rolls through her. “If I don’t want to stay here—”

“I’m not above forcing you,” he says gently, as if delivering bad news. “Aside from school, you have nowhere to go. I’ll drive you there and back, and in the meantime, I’ll keep you locked in the house. With me.”

Kylo says all this as if it’s a perfectly normal course of action. _Natural._ Rey isn’t sure what to say. 

“I will repeat it until the day I die.” He leans so close their lips brush. She tastes sugar. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

“We s-should negotiate,” she whispers, the idea hitting her like a random stroke of lightning. That might work. 

His eyes grow stormy. “I told you—"

“Give it six months,” she tells him, widening her eyes. He has to know she’s serious. “I’ll stay until then. But if things don’t get better, I can leave. You’ll let me. That’s fair for both of us.” 

Kylo rolls his lips consideringly. Every time she adjusts herself, every time she so much as breathes a little deeper, he reacts in kind, mirroring her moves. Keeping her directly in his line of sight. 

_There’s no way he’ll agree,_ she tells herself. _He’s been playing the long-game. This solution is too simple, too—_

Kylo nods. “One year.” 

Oh. She’s surprised. “That’s too—“

“One year,” he interrupts firmly. “Stay for a year. If you still don’t want to be here, I’ll...let you go.”

It sounds too good to be true. She suspects he’s lying, saying whatever he needs to placate her, but he _looks_ serious. Rey knows she should be thankful he’s willing to negotiate at all. He holds all the power and could so easily bend her to his will. But he’s trying. 

For now, that has to be enough.

“One year,” she agrees slowly. Her fingers paint circles on the wood of the door—a nervous tic. “And you won’t stop me if I try to leave?”

“That’s right.” Kylo’s expression loses some of its hardness. He presses their foreheads together, and her eyes drop involuntarily to his mouth. Those sinful lips. “I’m going to do my best to convince you, Rey.”

She nods, the motion bringing their lips together in a barely-there kiss. One year. With a deadline in place, things suddenly seem manageable again. She can’t ever imagine trusting him or his motives, but maybe they can come to some sort of understanding. Despite everything, she still loves him, but that's probably not enough. 

If he lied about something as big as her adoption, she can only imagine what other secrets he’s holding close to his chest. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, big hands settling on her hips. “I’ll remind you everyday.”

Rey doesn’t say anything. But she leans her head on his shoulder and hopes it’ll be enough.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**  
THREE WEEKS LATER   
**

Rey gazes out at the backyard from the patio, nervously twisting the diamond engagement ring on her left hand. 

The lawn has been torn up in places, making it a minefield of holes, and men in jeans and fluorescent vests litter the grass, maneuvering massive tools and machines to different sections of the yard. She stays safely out of the way, but every so often she throws a nervous glance over her shoulder. Normally she watches from indoors, but today she craves the fresh air, which wouldn’t be an issue except for the fact that she didn’t ask permission. 

She always has to ask permission. 

A few days ago, Rey made a passing comment about her childhood desire for an in-ground pool. The little plastic one Luke bought for her right after her adoption is a fond memory, but she still remembers being disappointed by its size. Two feet of hose water can’t exactly compete with a diving board and pool floats. 

When she woke up yesterday to the loud, jarring sounds of construction, Rey didn’t know what to expect when she looked out the window. But there in the backyard, spread from one side of the fence to the other, were a dozen men in hard-hats and at least one massive bulldozer. 

Kylo brought her breakfast in bed and the news that in a month’s time, they would have a sweeping in-ground pool, complete with a diving board and attached jacuzzi. Just what she wanted but could never ask for. A late birthday present. 

Aside from the ring, of course. 

Rey watches from the shade as men wipe sweat from their brows and work on the giant hole currently occupying the middle of Kylo’s backyard. She struggles with calling it _her_ backyard, _her_ home. It still feels like at any moment she’ll be cast aside in favor of something more useful. 

The sliding glass door thumps shut behind her, and a second later Kylo’s hands wrap around her waist, tugging her against his chest. His hips ground into her backside, and he drops a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the side of her neck.

“There you are,” he rumbles, swaying them side to side. “I was worried.”

Rey forces down her exasperation. She stepped outside less than five minutes ago, and she’s still in full view of the kitchen. He likes to know where she is at all times, especially when there are other men present. Since construction started early yesterday morning, Kylo’s been on edge. 

“Just needed some sun and air,” she says lightly, watching as two men shift a giant metal plate. 

His hand slides down her arm and clasps her fingers. He raises their hands so the sunlight glances off her sparkling engagement ring. They both stare. 

“So pretty,” he murmurs, kissing the back of her neck. He’s hugging her too tightly, and she grimaces. 

Rey’s attention shifts to the side. One of the younger men is watching them. Her throat goes dry and she quickly looks away. Kylo must sense they have an audience because he maneuvers her around until she’s facing him.

His eyes sweep her face. “I ordered Chinese food again.”

She bites her lip and looks down. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know you’ve been craving egg rolls,” he says with a shrug. He cups her cheek and kisses her forehead. “Whatever makes you happy.”

A small smile touches her lips. He’s trying so hard to please her, and she appreciates the effort. But every so often, she gets the weird feeling that he’s only doing it because his actions benefit _him_. She's allowed to be happy as long as things go his way. 

Which is ludicrous. He tells her he loves her every morning and every night and usually ten times in between. They share a bed and snuggle on the couch. They eat meals together, and Kylo always joins her in the shower. He loves her with his mouth and his hands, and sometimes she’ll wake in the middle of the night to find him crushing her to his chest like he’s determined to prevent her from leaving even then. 

The engagement ring was a gift for her eighteenth birthday. He proposed at sunset at a Michelin-star restaurant in town. The crowd went wild when she said yes. 

Rey nuzzles his palm and keeps her eyes on his own. He’ll let her go when the year is over. Despite the ring. Despite plans for a destination wedding in six months. If she really wants to leave, he won’t stop her. He _won’t_.

“Why don’t you come inside?” he coaxes, drawing her by the hips. He sidles back, but she keeps her feet planted firmly on the patio.

“I want to stay.”

Kylo’s gaze flickers to the men, and his face hardens. “Come inside, baby.”

“I want to stay here,” she insists, but it’s a whisper now. Her lips tremble. 

He breathes harshly through his nose, clearly upset, and wraps a hand around the back of her neck. He plants a rough kiss on her mouth. “You really test me, you know that?”

It’s hard to nod when he’s holding her neck like this, but she manages, eyes narrowed, which makes him grin. He likes when she’s resistant, though usually only in bed.

Rey tilts her chin up to meet his gaze. “Did you look through the applications I gave you?”

“Oh, honey.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Those schools aren’t right for you. We need to find somewhere closer.”

A frown pulls at her lips. “But I already applied to Santa Clara and Chapman and—”

But Kylo places a finger on her mouth and says flatly, “Those schools are hours away, Rey. I don’t want you that far.” 

Ah. As she suspected, it’s the distance. Her stomach tightens. Santa Clara is only an hour and a half away. As far as local universities, it’s a great school—she couldn’t ask for better. But even _that’s_ too far? 

“Kylo,” she whispers pleadingly. She places her hand over his where it rests on her cheek. “Please.”

He hesitates, eyes roving over her face, but in the end he still shakes his head. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m uncomfortable with that. There are plenty of schools less than an hour away. Like Pitzer. Apply there. I’ll help you.” He lowers his voice. “You’re not going to stay in a dorm with strangers. This is your home. I want you here.”

Tears threaten, even though part of her anticipated this outcome. It’s always been a dream of hers to go away to college—to room with another girl, to eat at a communal dining hall, to join clubs and explore campus. She can’t do that if she’s living at home. 

Kylo smiles indulgently and kisses the tip of her nose. “Be thankful I’m even letting you go. I’m tempted to keep you right here with me.” He tilts his head. “Maybe I’ll make you my personal assistant so you can’t stray. That’s a good idea,” he murmurs, giving her a thoughtful onceover. 

Rey suppresses a thrill of fear. She doesn’t want a job, especially not one that won’t require her to leave the house. If it were up to him, she’d be shut in the basement from morning to night and only let loose for meals and bedtime. 

So maybe he’s right. She _should_ be thankful he’s not demanding she enroll in an online degree. 

Rey tries one more time. “I thought—maybe—” But she can’t work up the nerve. He’ll see right through her.

“What did you think? Hm?” Kylo’s fingers tangle in the hem of her short skirt, and he brushes the material aside so he can palm her ass. He pushes her up against the railing and breathes, “Tell me.”

Overwhelmed, Rey stutters, “W-we can move. Somewhere else. Maybe a town where there’s...you know, lots of universities. So I don’t have to go far.”

He hums thoughtfully, ducking his head so they’re eye to eye. “You want to move?”

She nods quickly. If she’s going to be trapped in the house most of the time, it might as well be in a bustling city. Suburbia is already proving mind-numbingly boring.

Kylo sighs. “Not yet. Let’s wait a few years.”

 _Wait?_ What are they waiting for? Persistent, Rey adds, “Well, I— It’s a little weird living next to Luke where he can see us everyday, don’t you think?”

They’ve already had sex on the patio furniture—twice—and both times Rey was paranoid that Luke could see them from his kitchen window. If anything, this only made Kylo more aggressive, and when he fucked her on the wicker sofa, he refused to stop until she screamed. 

Now he gives her an odd smile. “I think we’ll stay put for the time being, baby. It’ll do him good to be reminded.” 

_Reminded?_ she wonders tiredly. _Reminded of what?_ It’s so difficult to keep track of his mind, she’s discovered. He’s always ten steps ahead. This shouldn’t be surprising for a man who’s waited nine years to enact his plans. 

“Okay,” she agrees finally, defeated. He can argue circles around her, and she’s not in the mood. 

Kylo’s focus returns to her ring. He brings her hand to his mouth and kisses the jewel. “One day soon I’ll buy you a ring so fucking massive you’ll have trouble lifting your tiny little finger.” 

Her stomach shrivels. “Oh?”

“When we get married,” he continues, oblivious to her stricken expression, “I’ll let you pick a new band. But the gemstones—“ He winks and kisses her palm. “Best leave that decision up to me. We need a ring that’ll impress even our kids. Makes for a good story.” 

Marriage. Kids. He’s moving too fast again. Rey has to remind herself that he’s speaking in hypotheticals. Of course he knows this might not work out. All the wedding plans he’s been making are meant to prepare her for a long-term relationship, but they’re not— _serious_. She might leave after their twelve months are up. And he’ll let her go, if that’s what she wants.

He will. He promised. 

Rey gently pulls her hand from his grasp and rubs the goosebumps on her arms. He follows, wrapping himself around her like a warm blanket, one that’s just a smidge too heavy. 

The doorbell rings.

“Mm. That’ll be the food.” Kylo kisses her deeply, smothering her grunt when he presses too hard. “I love you.”

He releases her reluctantly, eyes lingering on her face, before he turns away. There’s tension in his back and shoulders, and she knows it’s because there are men only a dozen feet away. Much too close. 

At the sliding glass door, as if he can’t help himself, Kylo snaps his fingers and says, “Rey. Come inside.”

His tone leaves no room for negotiation. Rey swallows and follows him into the kitchen, hunching her shoulders. He smiles, pleased, and brushes a kiss on her temple before going to greet the delivery person.

Rey slides the back door shut and gazes at the yard through a thin pane of glass. She can’t smell the grass or flowers, and her skin is already cooling down now that she’s out of the sun’s rays. 

In her little schoolgirl skirt, a hand pressed flat against the glass, she feels like a kid again. One who wants nothing more than to be a part of something but finds herself hopelessly out of reach. 

She tells herself a story—and then she tells it again and again until she makes it true. 

One day she’ll be free to leave, if she wants. That’s one option. One day, she will forgive Kylo and love him as much as he loves her. That’s another one.

One day, she’ll be more happy than she’s ever been, no matter where she is or who she's with. One day. It could be tomorrow, or next week, or even next month. She’s learned the future can hold any number of surprises, both good and bad and somewhere in-between. 

_Give it time,_ she tells herself, watching as Kylo returns to the kitchen with their food. The smell makes her nauseous. _Everything’s going to be okay. You two will work it out together. Kylo’s shown he's willing to negotiate, and so are you._

Rey sits down at the kitchen table, and this time it’s a little easier to smile. She believes things will be okay. She does, and even if they aren’t, she’s not helpless—she and Kylo will negotiate like adults. 

But her smile gradually fades.

Kylo _won’t_ be rational about it—thinking otherwise is foolish. He’s going to make it extremely difficult for her to leave. First with the ring. Next is marriage, which he’s already planning in excruciating detail. Then kids. More than one, of course. She'll have to find a way to buy some birth control behind his back. Rey's not stupid, but neither can she keep up with him. 

No matter what happens, she can’t give in. 

Because if Luke managed to teach her anything in the past eight years, it’s that you never make a deal with the devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **There we have it! Nothing super crazy, but for a story that initially started out with absolutely zero plot aside from le smut, I think this turned out somewhat decent. [Poor Rey, though.] Thanks to anyone who's left kudos//comments!**
> 
> **  
>  **OTHER WORKS**   
>  **
> 
> **  
>  Fluff   
>  **
> 
> **[Saving What We Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23328586) (complete)  
> [#dirtytextchallenge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771213) (oneshot)  
> [The Artist's Garden At Giverny (1900)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307039) (oneshot)  
> [Steal My Heart (There Are No Returns)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23701381) (oneshot)  
> [Only By Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23673103) (oneshot)  
> [Love Only Matters When We Bleed For It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23415190) (complete)**
> 
> **  
>  Darkfics   
>  **
> 
> **[if you can't live without me, why aren't you dead yet?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361551) (WIP)  
> [drenched](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117876) (WIP)  
> [I've Got A Dark Alley & A Bad Idea (That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25814914) (oneshot)  
> [slowly therefore surely](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639642) (oneshot--for now)  
> [Chasm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24962308) (complete)  
> [In Our Darkest Hour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24810736) (complete)  
> [Stifle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24724003) (oneshot)**  
> [Aggressive Expansion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568556) **(complete)**
> 
> **~~say hi! (or come yell at me)~~  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/naboojakku)  
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naboojakku/?hl=en)**


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